Internal battles meant to be discounted
And anxieties rumored as dismounted
While nothing could have amounted
To the tales within those mountains
Regarded and enabled as fountains
Of flowing wisdom which hasn’t counted
The melody of life yet to be sounded
A treasure seemed and well-rounded

We've our grievances
right
here in hand

Blood soaked envelopes
stamped
sweat and seal

They use empty truths
to pitch hate
as a promised land

They sell their answers
used, as is
to the fearing masses

And they do so
dirt cheap
dirt cheap

From a throne
of our skulls
and ancient
bones

.our ******* bones.

if i make a poem out of iphones,
people will actually start taking
a liking to the forgotten form.

i can make every phone sing
with a new hit song
at the perfect time
as your eyes glance over them
while they offer you a new promotion
to go with your completed poem line.

and as you are thinking about the confusing
symbolism between a flea and blood,
you can also get 50% off
your next purchase at Target.