Killing each other
with our lies,
our words,
our own demise
causing
a social divorce,
the great divide
making love...
a fight.
With every thought
we write...
upon our hearts,
our minds,
a thorn in
our side
blood spilled
into the wide
open spaces
between...
you and I.
Seeing with
blind sight
going left
when we should
go right
homicide
with no reason
why
and we cry
as we die...
inside.
We look to
the sky
in search of answers
we cannot find
our cyanide
not dead
but not quite
alive
all alone
side by side
fearing to look
and so we hide
divisible by
this...
our suicide.
Copyright 2004 sweetambrosia
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