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jacobo-raymundoPoems
Blood filling the sternum Of the work horse grown old The rusty iron of an old train yard Stagnate pools of ancient prosperity Fill the scene of yesterday's tomorrow Instead of futuristic gizmos Zapping up our daily needs We worship a silly piece of paper Watching the ruins around us fade away Instead of helping one another Stand from a nasty fall We fill our pockets with jingling candies Trying to sweeten our sour lives Instead of being the beacon of hope The self proclaimed city on a hill We watch the struggles around our walls And laugh at the ones within A day of reckoning is soon to come With it we all fade to dust A rebirth is in store But it will not bring new life Only more death and struggle Because Lady Liberty only holds her torch Shines upon her own achievements And leaves others in the dark Wheezing, she stumbles upon a notebook Coughing the blood of her own horse Rusting away like her prosperity She reads of what she learned a day ago But forgot for today She awakes in a cold sweat Still torch in hand Will she have learned to shine towards others Or will she only brighten herself?
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Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 9:34 PM UTC
Emphysemic Nightmare
Blood filling the sternum Of the work horse grown old The rusty iron of an old train yard Stagnate pools of ancient prosperity Fill the scene of yesterday's tomorrow Instead of futuristic gizmos Zapping up our daily needs We worship a silly piece of paper Watching the ruins around us fade away Instead of helping one another Stand from a nasty fall We fill our pockets with jingling candies Trying to sweeten our sour lives Instead of being the beacon of hope The self proclaimed city on a hill We watch the struggles around our walls And laugh at the ones within A day of reckoning is soon to come With it we all fade to dust A rebirth is in store But it will not bring new life Only more death and struggle Because Lady Liberty only holds her torch Shines upon her own achievements And leaves others in the dark Wheezing, she stumbles upon a notebook Coughing the blood of her own horse Rusting away like her prosperity She reads of what she learned a day ago But forgot for today She awakes in a cold sweat Still torch in hand Will she have learned to shine towards others Or will she only brighten herself?
jacobo-raymundo
Written by
jacobo-raymundo
American
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 9:34 PM UTC
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