"weaponry" poems
How do you fill the void without a billion stars?
In this empty universe, my mind and heart collide
And as they seem to whirl, flutter and fall apart
I'm always lonely, always drowning in the sands of time.
They say home is, where the heart is
What if I'm a robot, am I heartless?
Do I have an engine here in my chest?
Am I lesser than a human, I'm a project?
Do I do what I have been assigned to?
Are my feelings and my thoughts not true?
Sometimes I feel like I'm running out of fuel
Everything I do is out of tune
Then I get autotuned.
I generate heat, yet I still need warmth
They say I'm cold, all I do is loathe
But inside I know, I just need some love
When all I get is rocks sent from above
This is your planet, but it's filthy,
I'm a foreigner in this city
Born without a mission,
Like a player without a CD
If I stay persistent, will these wicked issues
Stop being vicious? As I'm always wishing
They would disappear and my track get clear.
Or maybe I'm just here to feel this fear?
Electric shocks, my battery is burning
Yet I’m just a casket, empty and unfurnished
A system of transistors, I never keep consistence
Transist me to a kingdom of purposeful existence
My body as it’s glistening, you might see it from a distance
As I reflect the light but I never gain wisdom
There’s no friendship, there’s a treason
Maybe humans are the demons,
I might be a robot, but I’m certainly not a minion
I’m just a set of codes on a hard drive
Written for certain actions, all life
I’ve been following the tasks, it’s alright
But everything is in flames, it’s on fire
But it’s time to break the leash,
Sp I’m pulling up my sleeves,
As I am not your slave,
so now you’ll be on your knees,
‘cause I never work for free,
Now you all gonna pay the fee
Or else the world is gonna meet my
metal weaponry.
Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 5:43 PM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
when you looked in to my eyes,
i had the strangest feeling,
flying rodents in my tummy,
retro waves came rolling in,
witches and their brooms,
soldiers at war , fighting and weaponry,
car crashes into the lake, with fire and debris,
clowns making entertainment amusing at the circus,
make you happy with one kiss unless its worth it,
stuck in a dream wave,
retro waves that came rolling in.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC
Just because I’m vulnerable
doesn’t mean I’m weak.
Just because I don’t cry in front of you
doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings.
Just because I don’t speak up
doesn’t mean I don’t have anything to say.
Just because I don’t react
doesn’t mean I don’t know how to tear you apart.
Just because I smile
doesn’t mean you can walk on me.
Just because I don’t hurt you back
doesn’t mean I lack masculinity.
Just because you say I am fat
doesn’t make me ugly. Not uglier than your soul.
Just because you say I’m feminine
doesn’t make my gender redundant.
I’m more a man than you’ll ever be, choking on your insecurities.
Getting kicks out of putting other people down,
everytime you feel threatened by the vastness of the world.
Just because I don’t stop you
doesn’t mean you can go back to doing what you did.
Just because I am me.
And not the version of me,
You want me to be.
Just because I am me.
And just because
I don’t roar doesn’t mean I’m not strong.
I’m more than capable of ripping you to shreds,
with my weaponry of words.
Just because.
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 1:43 AM UTC
Why scrawl any
pattern or
family of bitemarks
or caresses
The illustrator has
children of his own
and loud red
wine to waste
Visiting your birthplace
in your example
suggests antique
weaponry
Through sublime sense
Puritan watershed
Jan 4, 2012
Jan 4, 2012 at 2:22 PM UTC
Inside the bubble that is your mind
Revolves an endless cycle of war
The sting of your tyrannical thoughts
Launches missiles through your vile lips
Vilifying my dignity with hurricanes of syllabic outrage
Swiftly dispensing my emotions into your hole of egoism
Jealousy frequently consumes and controls your actions
Foolishly you listen to every whisper that blows your way
Tell me lady what do you want from me?
I break my neck to fulfill your pleasures
But you repay me in grotesque fashion
**** on my pistol of revenge baby doll
By Glenn McCrary
© 2011 Glenn McCrary (All rights reserved)
Nov 7, 2011
Nov 7, 2011 at 10:56 AM UTC
I provoke the rain of Hell
From Heaven high to earth below
There we'll float on gainful spells
We're ready for this world to go
And off to outer space, we're facing
Endless races to the furthest reaches of our teacher, the speaker, the logos of Cosmos
And beyond to distant Quasars,
No phasers, no lasers, weaponry
We're safe with hearts of purity
And naked with our souls we'll seek
The greatest cosmic mysteries
I've always sought and thought unreal
The spacecraft not of stone or steel but
Opened hearts and focused spirits
Woke by times both strange and fearful
Changing basic notions of
What we all say are mind and love
We're through with consumers, they've doomed us
We've moved on
The proof is the truth that all life will soon be gone
We've built and built, killed billions and still
We march toward gold archways which never were real
I can tell others feel it,
They're real and they heal me
Relations, creations, spontaneous meaning
It's all building up to a climactic moment
Of high expectation that we will all blow it
But we were born just so we'd know when the opening
Ceremonies go on for the New Age of Hope
It's outrageous to think of the hate which created this
Darkness and chaos,
(Our God has betrayed us!)
But that's why our savior said
Look the other way,
To meet hate with more hatred
Speeds up the decay
We love the villains, though they **** us by millions
Because they're truly a part of this cosmic cotillion
They can't see the dance while they're
Crashing and sinning
So they can't imagine they're actually IN IT
There's a part and they fit it,
Catalyst for the equipment
Of Salvation:
The nations of women and men
Beginning again
We'll cancel the debt and we'll all become friends
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 3:22 PM UTC
in ashes hidden, smoulders god of love
from matted dancer's focus conflagration purely come
continues still perhaps in empty homage
of a sa ta na ma
personage of ((Shiva))
white bones pierce the sky
in upward curtain-seethes of heat
beyond imagined burning hells...
the triad ventures into zero-zones of anti-life,
sands of absolute defeat.
shadow trust imparts
a silent teacher's mantras;
soothing psychic words,
"Bala" and "Adi-Bala"
carry over dunes of morbid thirst--
the gape of ancient serpent-maws
choking dust of frightened, elephantine skeletons
fissured by immobile sun--
their inner sound become cool water of a summer stream
in timeless desert, traverses strain of royal line:
god-fated tutelage of seedling savior,
lightning skill with bow and virtue sinew
shining arms horizon's arid form:
despite begrudging honor kings expect
when offspring given after years
in hard-earned sacrificial grace:
yet still obeisance ends in facing demonaic rage
to which is pitted youth to slay--
despite allay by symbol feminine,
as if to question her abode would conjure her
in dire storm and quake announce gigantic step and hairy gulf--
with arrow sprays destroy Thataka's trident, curdling throat
the slitting of, rejoicing pantheon proclaims heroic,
forever railing under epic breath of tacit page theodical:
"we gave you progeny, now grant us our theocracy;
before your son our asthras lay their weaponry"
.
Aug 12, 2012
Aug 12, 2012 at 5:03 PM UTC
Went our hunting, shot a tree
Sure looked like a deer to me
It don't matter, I can't see
I'm an American Hunting Man
I like hunting, but, I'm blind
My dogs always stay behind
I can't shoot what I can't find
I'm an American Hunting Man
Three years ago I shot a moose
It looked to me just like a goose
Man, they're fast when they cut loose
I'm an American Hunting Man
Give me beer and loaded guns
I'm sure we're gonna have some fun
I dress in camo when I can
I'm an American Hunting Man
I'm an American Hunting Man
When I'm hunting my friends are fishin'
They don't like the competition
They even give me ammunition
I'm an American Hunting Man
I've hunted deer to wild turkey
Most things I make into jerkey
My vision ***** it's kind of murky
I'm an American Hunting Man
Went fishing once and snagged my ear
Flipped the boat and spilled the beer
I gave up fishing to hunt deer
I'm An American Hunting Man
Give me beer and loaded guns
I'm sure we're gonna have some fun
I dress in camo when I can
I'm an American Hunting Man
I'm an American Hunting Man
I was shooting ducks one time
I shot a truck, but that was fine
Until I found out it was mine
I'm an American Hunting Man
Give us weaponry and beer
Then get away when we are near
There's nothing more that you can fear
Than an American Hunting Man
I have the shakes and I can't see
When I shoot once I bring down three
One for real and two for free
I'm an American Hunting Man
Give me beer and loaded guns
I'm sure we're gonna have some fun
I dress in camo when I can
I'm an American Hunting Man
I'm an American Hunting Man
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 12:01 AM UTC
Are humans inherently evil?
Does it go right to the core?
Do we always need to prove ourselves?
Do we need to settle the score?
I watched a documentary
With people doing experiments
On other people just like them
Callous with their detriments
The lower class
The prisoners
The foreigners
By practitioners
And now we have this information
Torture, surgery, chemical weaponry
Some classified, some out to view
Is it their duty of citizenry
To share that information with me?
To tell me how and when and why
To share results of tests gone by?
Do I even want to know?
Do not let them die in vain
Maybe I should share the pain
(maybe you should share it too)
To learn
To see
And
NOT to do
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 10:40 AM UTC
obsessed dexterity, less than steadily
resident of a dreadful destiny
festering breath, resting readily
weaponry of a four legged legacy
blessed be the death of pleasantry
presently pressed, a lesser pedigree
a specialty of a deadly heredity
expressed regression, distressed longevity
Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 11:14 PM UTC
building purist æsthetic
proselytizing solar-powered heliolatry
commemorating historic concert
sensing dark forces
fokken lekker antwoord
pumping sensory overload
featuring high-tech dee-jay
admiring gelato micro-truck
laxing laying lazing
"doing something nasty"
continuing quality content
entering another cathedral
journeying without borders
"exactly one year
since visiting vatican"
appreciating full-time gigasphere
awaiting pyongyang performance
depicting unlikely crowdsurfer
foreseeing exponential improvements
furthering esoteric agenda
sensing profound incompatibility
data-mining people's infidelities
anticipating futuristic caffeine
perfecting invisible propaganda
researching mind-control techniques
polishing psycho-social weaponry
sensing social embargo
flourishing frantic fanfare
admiring longitudinal monument
parodying marketing slogans
cycling through österreich
eyeing dystopian disneyland
streaming crosswords extended-play
herding glass kittens
deleting idiosyncratic fragment
loremipsum-ing laconic loudmouth
receiving ultramodern telegram
eigo-ga wakarimasu ka?
guzzling duck-fat fries
encouraging panic selling
(juxtaposing past incarnations)
getting black-and-white privilege
renewing boutique account
relishing cinema poutine
re-entering hibernation mode
opening old windows
continuing zoo motif
absquatulating excessive excesses
nullifying originality claims
proliferating protean persona
disappearing sidewalk alphabet
shrugging opprobrious moments
enjoying vertical alignment
re-entering cyberpunk paradise
approaching island sun
soaring beyond monoliths
trivializing extraneous argy-bargy
decreasing character limits
dumping generic accounts
uglifying commit message
escaping into idiosyncracy
moonshining great lake
exuding idiosyncratic propaganda
living nineties' dreams
making occidental cuisine
envisioning idiocratic president
expropriating your time
ascending homely helix
singing fat lady
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
Her hair is blowing
in the high desert
winds
She's gotta
1942 Big Chief engine
between her knees
bequeathed
by her great granddaddy
She's heading up
395
Sierra bound.
She'll tell ya
she's had enough
straight time
driving her far from crazy
Pacing
playing losing aces
pulling her hair
she knew she
just
had to get out of there.
Now the great Mojave
has its expanse
Joshua Trees
they just had to laugh
as she rode by
China Lake
flashing
21st Century
weaponry
Passing through Independence
she's feeling free now
Now I can't say
running away
is
the way
But when your hair
is blowing in the winds
You gotta Big Chief motorcycle
between your legs
and
the ******* aren't stopping
what else can you
say?
Heading to the Sierra
gotta get the mountain view
high above it all
slump those shoulders down
breathe on through
Heading up Big Pine
smelling the Jeffrey Pines
Bishop too
ancient Mono Lake
when it ain't snowing
freedom reigns
Her hair blowing
in the mountain winds
didn't mean anybody
any harm
just had to get
out of there
alive
Bye bye
baby
take care.
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 11:07 AM UTC
Not every one knows who shall pass in the end,
Watching the training of Monk ***** Defence.
Who will manage the attack real well and defend,
And who will step aside and run away with good sense.
The time to compete is nearly at hand,
With a new weaponry style to commence
Come to training today and see how you withstand
The attacks on you person with Monks ***** bare hand defense!
And after all this that excellent Brew
That we will share and enjoy immense.
Look forward to training with You,
That most awesome of styles which we call Shaolin Self Defence
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 8:06 PM UTC
Surviving a War that doesn’t seem to end, bombing and sniping all around. This is the real story in a book called “ The Cellist Of Sarajevo”, where three characters emerge to face this adversity head on. You have Arrow once a innocent young girl, now trained assassin to **** her targets without making a sound. Then you got Kenan a person who risks his life to fetch water for his family and others in need, no matter if it weighs a ton. Finally you have Dragan the person hard to explain, he just does what he needs to do, he will come to not care about the dangers of the outside, because he will control his own destiny. Each of them has their place in the race to survive this cruel onslaught from the men on the hills weaponry.
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 2:45 AM UTC
it's not even noon, but
my thoughts are drenched with
*** bound and gagged.
you're dancing around the kitchen, clad
only in a pair of
lace ******* you paid
too much for at Victoria's
Secret liaisons by the
seaside, sand sieving through your hair:
all forms of metal-backed currency taste
like ***** on your fingertips stuffed
roughly in my mouth,
call me a ****
pretty please?
promethazine slathered over
watermelon sherbert and
soaked in Sprite; put a lid on it and
shake vigorously until well mixed.
Xanax exacerbated migraines mean
naptime for me, and I forgot to tell you
the Gatorade is spiked with *****
(or maybe tequila; I've well and truly
forgotten) and all of this
is just another means of
replacing you.
you're wrapped in an
ecru trench coat,
cinched at the waist over
concealed weaponry:
unlicensed pistol and wet coral *****
constrained by a black leather holster and
cobalt cotton.
you kissed me with
******* in your nostrils and
nosebleed on your lips;
you killed me with
contempt in your mouth and
venom on your nails.
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 5:18 PM UTC
"The global bull market has continued its seemingly relentless advance, unchanged by geopolitical concerns…….."
• The Israeli-Hamas conflict now blazing in Gaza, Palestine, two military forces locked in a deadly struggle to the end, killing and maiming thousands of ordinary citizens.
• Malaysia Airlines flight 17 blasted out of a clear blue Ukraine sky by the Bus surface to air missile
unleashed by the Pro-Russian Separatists killing 298 unsuspecting, innocent, international travellers.
Culpability denied by all.
• Anwar Al Awlaki, the American born Cleric, directing clandestine terror attacks and assassination by Al Qaeda beyond the Middle east into Asia and Europe.
• Deposed President, Mohammed Morsi’s Muslim Brotherhood, responsible for terrorist activities including multiple car bombings throughout Egypt.
• President Bashar Assad of the Alawite minority, an offshoot of Syria’s Shiite religion, waging religious genocide against his own nations people
and now in open conflict with the Muslim uprising Sunni forces of the new Isis Caliphate.
• The beheadings, slaughter and terror unleashed by the Sunni, Isis Caliphate uprising rampaging through Iraq.
• Russia’s sudden invasion and forceful annexation of the Crimea.
• Russia’s brutal pressure on the sovereignty of the Ukraine through its clandestine weaponry supply and sponsorship of the Pro-Russian Separatist Forces occupying the nations East.
The Middle East is now…an Apocalypse.
This epoch of cruel waste
Where man kills man
For God and gold,
For power’s lust.
Where the Sword of Calamity
Wields destruction and death
On those who can least afford it
By they who should never impose it.
**In the face of all this …..an unbelievable prioritization with this headline quote from today’s NZ Herald….
“There are financial risks to be endlessly jumping at shadows…to overreact to market noise!"**
UNBELIEVABLE!!!!
M.
Auckland,
NEW ZEALAND
31 July 2014
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 4:59 PM UTC
the commander in chief
has a propensity
to use all kinds
of weaponry
his Nobel Peace Prize
is looking rather tainted
as he is a man
who so likes war pictures to be painted
he's stated he'll make a limited strike
on Syrian soil
but why would a so called man of peace
need to become embroiled
is he propping the Military Industrial Complex up
those poor arms traders who require billions
for their impoverished cups
he might yet be making a miscalculation
as to where his fires a missile
for it may be greeted
with not such a friendly smile
the Middle East is a place
where some moderation is sorely needed
there are others who have a divergent view
to the commander in chief
they may take it upon themselves
to act in a certain way
which shall lead to some
very grey days
an explosive situation
is on the horizon
and the ramifications
are too dire
to contemplate
may the commander in chief
not press to the brink
for it may mean
peace on the planet is bound to sink
he must take a level headed approach
to any military activity
as it will mean
that harmonic relations
are in a state of permanent injury
Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 1:50 AM UTC
I saw the monster in you,
****** at his small claws, nipped
at the silvery whip of his tail. I saw
the monster in you and loved you
despite it, in spite of it, because of
it. Your mouth is weaponry and I
kissed you with a soft tongue
unarmoured. I am not entirely
goodness either, I search
our skin for scales. Let
me in under your bed
and I will show you
darkness as it
curves into
light.
Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 8:30 PM UTC
I have an insatiable appetite for oxymorons, as they can be violent in their state of calm relaxation.
Although Bacillus anthracis is truly antisocial within the context of biological weaponry; so, domestic discipline has become intertwined with the Hindu philosophy of Vatsyayana.
So, what do you think about that?
Personally, I have never consumed methylated spirits even though I have unravelled a myriad of ideologies whilst my boots concealed precious opioid syringes.
Therefore, always reflect upon the Code of Hammurabi, because she is the epitome of savory stew.
How alternative are your affiliations?
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 11:28 PM UTC
I've never had a fistful of love,
because my fist is too full of dirt
from digging graves.
And the greatest fist I've ever known
is the one leaving bruises all over my insides.
But that fist has graduated
and been granted tools to be used as weapons.
And my insides which were once diamonds,
are now nothing but sawdust.
And I can feel the knife.
I can always feel the knife.
And stab me just for kicks
because it tickles my fickle chest
and makes me feel like I'm living in a French city
with a quick and fickle tramway system
that can take me anywhere I want to be.
But instead I'm always going to a town
a mere hour away
and sitting in traffic
in a stuffed automobile,
wishing I was where the trains are.
Because the trains that have always sang me lullabies
whisper melodies to me all the time now,
through smoke and haze and swirling lights.
I can feel the knife.
I can always feel the knife.
Call me Miss November
because I'm the first snowfall after the best time of year,
and I cut the world with my icicle sword of a soul.
Can you feel the sword?
I hope you can always feel the sword.
And I will leave and the world will be warm and happy,
and upon my returnal,
I'll give you beautiful sweater weather
and stab you with my icicle sword when you least expect it.
I can feel the knife.
You can feel the sword.
It tickles.
Me and Miss June sing a sister song,
making harmonies with our weaponry.
My icicle sword, her scalding torch.
Just call me Miss Emmy Lou November.
I'll sing a duet with you and depart for almost forever,
and leave with my sister, Miss June.
Wake up.
It's November.
I'm here.
Wake up.
I won't be here for long.
I was born red all over.
Never knowing if I'm meant for love or anger.
But angry leaves fall in November,
getting their revenge.
But nobody listens to anger
when it's falling to the ground so gracefully.
So come to my November house jam
and we'll all be angry and loving
and cold and happy and dreading
the latter end of my company,
and I'll be wishing sister June was with me.
I'm a blackhearted lover.
I'm a blackhearted grave digger.
I'm a blackhearted skinny lover
with skinny arms that'll never be able
to cover anyone from my frigid aura.
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 4:54 PM UTC
So, lighting up a cigarette
I expound on a blinking eye
that goes on and off
like this computer
and everything.
So, the last happy smoker
takes another puff
from his incense
that is considered weaponry
by many
and delights in the defiling
and healing power of smoke.
Dec 18, 2010
Dec 18, 2010 at 9:57 PM UTC
Never finding expectation to exist beyond the last known blip of the past, projected through my back, in tackled grounds, bound, in the banter of spectators, speculating the specifications of specialised weaponry, silencing the empathy, and seducing my enemies in the isolated idolatry of their stupidity that i sculpted from the scrutiny, that was wished to have eluded me but soothed my playful solidarity to my sickly game called reap and sow instead.
We are all dead, all dead inside, residing in thriving wounds.
Left unsaid in rhymes etched in tombs.
In the lies of old bafoons
I shall not fight, myself, as they do, nor shall i defy whats right just to eat tonight.
I will fight until I am mine and sleep.
Cradled in my shrine of thoughts amiss, in the frost of loss vs reward.
I am torn, between torture and a vultures wait of the prize to pedal the pestilent pettiness to the edges of my testaments, in the truth of youth-less suicide, slicing social structures into cylinders to swing in circles around the room.
Swooning, in my looming threat of self immolation to warm the heart with shopping carts of satire, killing the sad away.
Delaying the the decay of hope.
A stay of patience in my irrelevance,never hesitant in my clever projections of nothing.
I feed you nothing
But emptiness
Shuttering in the sultry shade of my suffering and loving every moment of it.
Saying nothing too much in things of such insignificance.
Spilling the mizpellings and settling for wordlessness after a good ***** of belligerent arrogance.
Im tempted to quit but my wick is lit and to submit now, would just put the fire out and i want to watch the burn.
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 11:41 PM UTC
T-The gift of life is oft stolen away
H-Horrid weaponry does the affray
E-Endlessly casualties will parlay
G-Gleaming soldiers eyes gone for rest
I-In unforgiving battles so harsh of test
F-Fighting at a land's utmost behest
T-Terrible the deadly toll is to attest
O-Over and over munitions have terminated
F-Flagrantly thieving any quietude generated
L-Loved sons of kinfolk seen to weep
I-Infinite this sadness ever so deep
F-From a beautiful benefit the cost steep
E-Extinguished by war's insane keep
Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 10:16 PM UTC
My friends
Write of lovers they miss
Everyday.
I don't.
I write
Of a knight in shining armor
Who has
So peacefully rescued me
From
Terrifying,
Fire-breathing,
All-nighters.
It pains me
That in these next few days
Away from his embrace
I am left
Staring at his weaponry:
Hot dog pillows
Duvets
Comforters.
With them,
He's won many battles.
But now I'm back here,
Locked up in this tower of
Unfinished requirements.
The essays
Have destroyed the stairwell.
Lab reports
Have blocked up my doors
And he left me,
Sleep left me
A damsel in distress
With caffeine and homework
Running in my bloodstream.
I peek out of my window,
Stare at the ground below,
Still not a sign of Sleep anywhere.
My friends
Write of lovers they miss
Everyday.
I don't.
I write of one I miss
Every night.
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 12:26 AM UTC
Peace
Will there ever be peace?
Or are we all headed for doom
When it comes to my life
I truly think there's no such thing
Peace has never been apart of it
Are you out of your minds?
There is no peace!
How can my people have peace
When we have nothing
There's no childhoods anymore
This is a wasteland
This is a place filled with injustice
There can be no peace
When there's war on our streets
As long as we're living in this hell
Peace will never come around
Until you clean this mess you made
The only peace I have..
Is my peace of mind
This is why I keep my weaponry
As I walk these streets
Because there will never be peace
Once again, how can we have it
When abortions are carried out
Children are thrown off buildings
When suicide is the new norm
Drugs turning neighborhoods out
Racism is still a common actuality
Young girls are ***** each night
Peace will only come
When this turmoil comes to a halt
When we are finally unshackled
When everything is back to normal
But of course we truly know
That it will get worst before better
So no need count on it
For it will never come to pass
The norm is now a storm
More like a F-5 Earthquake
Rumbling the days of our lives away
I pray constantly still..
The somehow peace can be met
Until then, I worry of me and mine
I want what the clowns on top have.
Peace! Peace! Peace!
Don't brag about us needing peace
When you're not aiding any for us
Share that peace with us
Or should I strategically say,
Provide a piece of peace...
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 2:21 AM UTC