Just follow the trail of dead heroes
the path littered with suicide notes
and shotgun shells

tender hearts made of tinder
veins lined with gasoline
fingertips with matchstick nails

you see I’ve been thinking
a lot about dying lately
as the world crumbles apart
and human decency is becoming
a fable of days long past

I can’t stop myself from thinking
that maybe we would
have been better off
dying when we were younger

maybe as far back as six or seven
back when we were an age
that still believed in things
worth believing in

because god **** it hurts
to look at what we are becoming
while completely ignoring
what we could be

instead of reaching for are potential
we pull back and hide
in the grasp of fear and doubt

nothing is learned from denial
as we take pride in god and country
while ignoring the blood stained
pages of human history

and tell me what god
would allow such cruelty
such blind hate
so much anger and fury

to let bullets fly
in our school yards and streets
churches and synagogues
places of unity and love

how much longer can we march
how much longer can we fight
how much longer can we live
in this world of “us vs. them”

when we’re just like them
and they are no different than us
whose line is it drawn in the sand
whose border is it
that separates this land
from that earth

who decided that there
was a difference
between you and me

two souls lost along the path
of dead heroes
with our tender hearts made of tinder
veins lined with gasoline
fingertips with matchstick nails

trying to hold on to hope
without burning ourselves
from the inside out