It’s a cowards world
Punching out a bravado beat on our apish chests
And a child’s vulnerability inspires only pity
A projectile repulsion of the weaknesses we hide
We’re all at war with ourselves.
Cutting the throats of whole stories, dragging their corpses to the grave and burying our personal hatred there.
Our lives become cemeteries of all the faces carved from us
We ***** elaborate digital monuments to decorate the rotting beneath.
And plant fragrant flowers of borrowed clichés to cover the stench.
And one day we whither, our cells begin their decay
We will meet our exiles in the graveyard of our collective cowardice