Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2017
Those ****, metallic wings
No matter how far I flee
No matter how deep I sink
I can hear those blades shriek

The land is suffused with paranoia
We've poisoned sweet Americana
and in its place, soar ebony vultures

Listen my children, I have a tale to tell
How we flew out of good graces
and straight into **hell
Not meant to be political
Kush
Written by
Kush  20/M/United States
(20/M/United States)   
  328
     White Widow, ---, Mary Winslow and moonlight
Please log in to view and add comments on poems