Tuesday, July 24, 2007

An exotic bird, caged wit the rage and the violence of my words

We proceeded on a country road
His mother's eyes withered swoll
Her child was never coming home
Said a prayer for his soul
As the coffin had closed
Committed to the earth below
First seed she would sew
Would be a tree never grown
Shade that was never known
Who controls the Terrordome
The member hearts made of stone
Who love only what they own

throwback. google it.

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