I need it
the trumpet blast of hope
like the overpass addicts
eyes rolling into their heads
to stare at the graffitied walls
supporting their crooked spines
while the shiny car-ed obliviates
pass by thinking the convulsing
hobo is about to sprout wings
and bring back the Christ-child
Blind,
caves of urban walls, slums shanties
piling people in to the cattle car
I'm scared of the dark to come
it's the fear and revulsion
from the thought of a razor
pressing down down down
into goose bump-painted flesh
I don't know what you do
anymore.
Not anymore, with
diamonds and gold
worth more than faith in something
everything to nothing is all you've ever
asked for. A shame I won't give it
as many wouldn't condemn another
to piss themselves warm
and eat others for sustenance
but that happened already
there's hope for your dreams yet.
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