It's amazing how much a catalyst anyone of us can play,
and how simple it is to be fodder,
fuel for the flame.
Echoing off the corneas of an
older generation, the imprint
upon the retina of those we're
unknowingly strangling.

Their whimpers fill our oxygen tanks,
their stomach acid resurfaces the earth we burn and purge.
Their saliva cleans the barrels,
their imagination makes the bullets,
their incentive the gun powder,
their action our selfish itchy trigger
finger.

Written apologies through scripted
eulogies; we simply cared little
for your insistance we listen,
easier to brush it under the bed  
we tell you harbors no monsters.
Simplified for us, our course is set
our destination known, yet this
monster tucks you in at night.

I can't with dry eyes ask your forgiveness, for like an addict
we'll be at it again. Burning intellectual freedom, that well bleached parchment we've already scribbled your names upon.
Oh you didn't know?
Yeah we were ready for you,
we knew you were coming.
In our much praised cunning we've
already turned them all against you.

So why don't you swallow your angst,
go ahead and eat that anger. I don't care how much peace matters, go ahead drink that too.
Do it again, and again until your stomach swells and bursts.
See the best part about lack of nourishment it mimics your stomach as if you've gorged yourselves.
And you better believe that's what we're going to tell them, that's exactly what we're going to show them.

Now seriously, there's no monsters
under your bed, in your closet, or outside your window.
Please little one just sleep tight;
don't worry I'll get the light -
click - blam!