Up comes the sun,
We know they have already won.
Murders putting us back into our lines.
Why do we fear the line?
If it is truly the safe one.
Long and narrow path,
Stretching down,
Into the dark.
What the Fuck do
they want us to fear?
Why are we even here?
What do they fear?
Are they really here?
Is fear,
What they hear?
Up comes the sun once more,
Murders put us back into our lines.
Maybe in time we'll
know the truth.
Why we stand together as one,
Under this sun.
Rigid, conformed.
Lying is the norm.
Up comes the sun once again.
This time it's eyes lay across a dead land.
Children ran free,
And broke from the lines.
It was never the path to true freedom.
And it killed them inside.
Not knowing the truth.
It tore them apart.
Yet in time,
The sun will rise again,
And this time,
It'll begin,
Again.
And again,
And again.
And again.
Maybe there is no fucking end.
YOU ARE READING
Talking To The Night
PoetryA story of my life, in little poems. Hope y'all enjoy viewing my life from behind a screen :) (Also I do not own ANY of these photos, if your photo is used it is Beacsue I thought it would fit awesomely :D ) 17/11/18 #90 in shortpoems
