Apr 2023
Nothing makes the chatter stop
Drop your gun and take it from the top
My head, my hands, my legs, my feet
What would be left if I went to meet
the great gig in the sky,
all those that came before that never die?
Would they look at me as crazed?
Would they tell me that I had wisdom beyond my days?
I will never know because I'm bound to grow
Here where greed is ripe, where liars hide
Sat firmly in the great cosmic ride
Drop your gun and take it from the top
My head, my hands, my legs, my feet
What would be left if I went to meet
the great gig in the sky,
all those that came before that never die?
Would they look at me as crazed?
Would they tell me that I had wisdom beyond my days?
I will never know because I'm bound to grow
Here where greed is ripe, where liars hide
Sat firmly in the great cosmic ride
I was listening to Pink Floyd. I avoided listening for so long because of the painful memories associated, but I couldn't hide much longer. I opened the flood gates, and here we are. A poem, tears, and longing for a better world.
(21/F/New York City)
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