Folding the Pages
Smoke Or Fire
In the city the commute is a silent train
full of tired workers. Blank stares,
discomfort, and caffeine keep them
awake. And it seems so sad to me.
But its honorable still. And I wish
them peace at this pace. It will never
change.
And I think Im finally over it.
These words fall on deaf ears.
Everybodys hell looks different.
It changes shape but it never goes away.
In the suburbs kids are getting high today,
out of boredom. Their parents moved here
to feel safe, but they dont match the scenery.
Fences work both ways. They keep some out,
and they keep some in. Its another day
at this pace. It will never change.
And I think Im finally over it.
These words fall on deaf ears.
Everybodys hell looks different.
It changes shape, but it never goes away.
In a classroom theres a child with thoughts
of death on his mind.
In a hospital theres an old man looking
back on his life. And I wonder why some
people see the beauty, while others see
the pain.
Entertainment, politics, consumers,
cops, religious tricks.
Ugly, sad, or beautiful. Sometimes
it feels so trivial.
We need some time. We need some space.
We need some help for us to understand.
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