Updated: Dec 8, 2022
Helter skelter in this Summer swelter, it's already Mid-July 2020!
I wrote this poem on the 4th, enjoy!
A man once called me to the front line. Marching forward into July I took his sun beaten offer and watched the red run dry, as it came down heavy like the blues overhead. The whites of my eyes start to water up just thinking about the days leading up to this. And my life runs high and dry as they leak out like sea mist on heavy steel cars with their headlights on rolling down switchbacks of hot cheeks. The man told me to get down and I did, but there is no command to honor the hearts will. My horoscope claimed I was having a 4-star day, but what about my stripes, that bog me down with chain and iron? Am I free? Or am I stuck on one side of your wall dressed in paper, camouflaged into a crowded wallet of currency. Let's go out, me and you, we'll paint the town led and afterwards drink some tea straight from the bottom; One if by land two if by sea. Make a toast to the star strangled black and blue collared land that we've helped create. I'll return back home with these ghost limbs clamouring for the last beat of that purple heart to settle into this land. It was all a dream.