Powder blue adam
Won't somebody **** me please
I miss the nineties

Ten remain hidden, two thousand years lost.

Two struck down by bullet, gas, and flame; the ghetto stage one.
Six million perished before the world ended this crooked crime
Remanent of those lost rose like the cedar in Lebanon, Ezekiel knew best
Twas God who gave men courage; they fought such tyranny, such hate
Twelve mourned for a season while two given back old land
North and south, east, west flock to come home, a great exodus at hand
Two now settled, secure where they stay; diligently searching for those...

Ten remain hidden, two thousand years lost.

I remember the little men
in big boots. The ones who sat
at the edge of roof tops in a city called
Loneliness, and cut their teeth while chewing jagged glass and angry truths.
They parachuted down to earth
and hit their heads on desperation.
Hollowed out hearts with tree trunks
serving as legs, they marched
across the stratosphere until their existences neared zero. Nothing
more to disappearing than popping
some pills, falling asleep, and dreaming
that the whole world had gone mad.
The interesting part is when you wake up
and you can still hear the echo of
unfilled boots.