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brady-johnsonPoems
Not again This always happens. It's become the air that I breathe They take the breath right out of me. I sit to hide Hide from the metallic screams. I pray it will end soon Remnants of their actions plague the earth. Now let me tremble Let me escape this hell I feel. I will reconcile the injustice of their neglect I won't go quietly, give in to you.
0
Feb 2, 2012
Feb 2, 2012 at 8:17 AM UTC
Some of the People, All of the Time
Not again This always happens. It's become the air that I breathe They take the breath right out of me. I sit to hide Hide from the metallic screams. I pray it will end soon Remnants of their actions plague the earth. Now let me tremble Let me escape this hell I feel. I will reconcile the injustice of their neglect I won't go quietly, give in to you.
brady-johnson
Written by
brady-johnson
American
Feb 2, 2012
Feb 2, 2012 at 8:17 AM UTC
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