Idiots
The usual quiescent blood coursesTo limbs and tips still.
Thrills every particle of us.
Our bellows imbibe the oxygen...
The exchanges of gases needed
That happen by nature
For our exhales to happen.
Lately as blood hits my brain
I've had to hold my breath
Too much in my hands as the lost
Chances
Have hit my consciousness.
I'm over here sat on this sideline.
Waiting to see some pain relieved.
Praying blood will not flow on this street
As a new man comes to save us
With credible insistant partisans.
We are fools.
Idiots.
We worship the money...the fame.
These things we cannot eat and yet
We are consumed by the inedible markets.
Roofs and food and water for everyone!
Without profit.
Poetry by jenks
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Written on 2012-05-30 at 06:32
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