Third Island High

Sheepskin back of beyond
Your heart transplants vegetables
Your mind has surely gone
Where's there One
There are three
Christ believe me
Our parents haunt our life
And loneliness becomes
My husband and wife

Strange pyramids descend from the heavens
Sevens are lucky
To bad it's run out
Your better off dead
While there's a corpse in your bed

You give them an inch
And they'll make a
Mile Island High
Too bad!!
The nuclear family has blown
And the radioactive seeds you have sown
Will yield cancerous crops
To feed on your children's bones

Your skin may tie you to your own
But only your heart can lead you home to
Where the buffalo roam

Doesn't it make no sense
In your present tense
Release control
Unfurl your wings of perception
And fly high away




Poetry by Firehawk
Read 746 times
Written on 2005-10-31 at 04:06

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Your texts, sometimes harsh, always beautiful, contain and express so much. Though i'm a lazy reader, i enjoy reading them over and over again. This one makes no exception
2005-11-06


penfold18
A very interesting piece , it has an almost morbid quality to it .
2005-10-31