1 of 4
Wednesday, March 2, 2011 at 9:42pm ·

and i am one of the four
another warm face to embody the statistic
blue.black. & bruised
hidden underneath broken down walls once reconstructed
pain rimmed with undulating hate
married to cancerous fear
afraid of the shadows in the day and the dark of the night

and its me who is haunted by the choice of destruction made by another
and we would break it down to economics
something for nothing
property to be used then left behind
we lock the doors on rich emotion
we look as it were an anomaly
rather than the normalcy
while our sisters aunts mothers girlfriends
rage war with demons left in the wake
and their is shame that too
like in invisible chain hung round their delicate necks
and they are broken mending the pieces in the quiet of the night
or in deep dark locations of their heart
and some would say that too have only gotten what they have deserved
but i stand in the assembly line of broken hearts
and i too rage war against that cloak we put on like borrowed clothing 3 sizes too big
the cries of our suffering meet deaf ears..
how long will you chose the comfort of lies when i would spoon you the truth