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.