Land Of The Wandering Jews

Posted: May 11, 2013 in Poetry, Prose, Uncategorized
Tags: , ,

For if I change,who here will change their opinion of me?

A changing state’s most difficult aspect.
An aspect sitting heavily upon my chest.
Forcing the shallowest breaths.
Weighing down every decision.

Cut to bone with surgical precision.
The further this blade continues to sink,
to ease the pain I like to think,
it can never measure against the sadness, the broken promises amid the madness,
I spread through my bruised world.

The guilt from which leaves one unfurled.

One way or another, before we’re through;

WE ALL WITH BLOOD PAY OUR DUES.

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