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 Dec 2014 Matt
Serenus Raymone
Baby, You’re a Drug




Baby,

You’re a drug

An addiction

Maybe,

You can numb

My afflictions

With one touch

No prescriptions



…Baby, you’re a drug



Baby

I can’t lie

I breathe you in

And I get high

A free ride

On cloud nine

Capturing my body

And corrupting my mind



…Baby, you’re a drug



You flow all through my veins

A rush

Straight to my brain

You take away

All of my pain

A sensation

That keeps me sane



…Baby, you’re a drug



You’re a bad habit

And I’m just an addict

Every time I try to quit

You call…

And I’m right back at it



Baby,

You’re a drug

An addiction

Maybe,

You can numb

My afflictions

With one touch

No prescriptions



…Baby, you’re a drug
 Dec 2014 Matt
Alli Westerhoff
Tall Towers above with gleaming lights
Beautiful hotels, and beautiful girls,
But what lay in the streets is from our fights.
Those innocent people with scars and limbs,
Helpless and homeless but hoping for rights.
They walk the streets, they give us tours,
But can we ever really rebuild what has been ruined?
They have such courage and such despair
But underneath the damage and the scars
They have something of a kind heart.
The wilderness muffles the battle cries,
She hides the dead and the broken,
But in the city there is no escape
From the terrible people who have been *****
Of their skins, of their limbs, of their lives.
Museums, Memorials, and Memories
Scatter this beautiful land,
But deep inside the heart of it all
Lays the millions who were doomed to fall.
Americans were here
Standing tall and strong, but weak in the knees
Not ready for war, not ready to be ****** so far
From Home, from safety, from the comforts we are
Deep in ourselves we are full of ourselves,
But these men want nothing less but to forget the hells,
They witnessed, they practiced, they created in the land
So they marched together arm and arm, United we stand,
But for how long until they return in boxes or worse,
People ready to quit the lives and cursed,
Thoughts that haunt and taunt pulling their brains,
Farther from their own to create a horror of images
Strewn through their vision, unable to get out
The picture of the women
Running away from the big metal monsters
Children, burned from their big bullet bombers.
This was a beautiful country I’ll say to others,
But I’ll know what lurks in those dark dark corners.
 Dec 2014 Matt
Racquel Davis
In short: you're a protist.

©Copyright 2014 Written and Edited by Racquel Davis

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