Dying Issue

Age 17. Seems to be all over the place. 

Faith’s a dying issue. 

Falling onto our knees

begging God please

to let the bombs miss you. 

The world’s suffering a horrible death

Land mines paved dangerous steps

Suicides have become bombs 

still we all choose to be deaf. 

But all’s not calm

Genocide with napalm

Children with deformed moms

Broke my back

trying to prepare for the next attack

Something in your mind must’ve snapped. 

Another victim to the epidemic of crack

or just another apathetic soul

who thinks they know

how tragedy goes or so you were told

with the education they sold. 

Another rant and rambling 

Bouncing in my mind, doing flips on a trampoline. 

Handling chemical exposures of all samplings. 


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