In the mind of Billy
He is dead
No matter the functioning
Of his body
His mind
They both speak Gutter
French and German
They both mutter and stutter
French and German
Wishful thinking
Thinking is purple
For Kings do it the most
Rather Kaisers
The dead fill the risers
At my school Of fools and tools
Who reproduce like mules
Messenger from a far away
Place
A flat nose and face
You see
The World is at War
A Global conflict
Gangrenous infection
And trench foot
Blinded eyes
And lungs cook
Boys like Billy
Seated against trees
With their eyes shut
And their mouths ajar
But he's not from afar
He's your neighbor
He is you
And your best friend
Too
1 comment:
This is almost embarrassing. but you've got to start somewhere.
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