Monday, September 23, 2013

One Forty Times Eleven Characters Later

Fatigued and shaken we wait The smell of death spreading Caught up in a war of another The news have nothing new

Imaginary screams of babies Calls for mama, daddy and god In a second their eyes meet His stare fearfully triumphant

Sounds of helicopters And the loudness of fear In the sirens of our hearts I weep for me. You and all.

Tears for unknown friends 
and familiar strangers. 
The deaths I have died. 
Mine and others'. We die.
Your ancestors and mine.

The coffee has been cold A sun and a moon after The cups sit uncollected He was here just yesterday has crossed over

In the shadow of our deaths Kofi We carry life with grace And when the shadow dies We are dead to our own deaths

We have died before Deaths not our own And with one death We offer to you a sacrifice

And in the death of another We have had our slice In the death of the everyday We have become dead to life.

And in our dead lives We can no longer live As though we weren't dead To our own lives

But when our deaths come We will have forgotten how to And our tears will be for another We have been here before

Too much pain mate But not enough synonyms Streaming thoughts of hate And possible antonyms Still I love

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