Thirteen eleven and we’re pointed to heaven.

The day of cost has begun to roost,

A another silent day to boost.

Rememberance again the word,

Because some people never heard.


Regret, refrain,


Some people need more,



I do, for sure,

need very much more.

What to do,

the hardest yards of all.


Turn the noggen off,

get reduced to tears.

As the blood rushes into the visions of fears,

The sounds of screams and offensive memes.


Those passive agressives,

and gaslighting tours,

the profiter tactics,

those sick lions roars.


Emotional damage,

intellectual concern.

Faiths that oppose,

Numbers that warn.


What I want is indescribable,

Unlimited and completely unmeasurable.

The light again in both my eyes,

and keep the focus while I’m still alive.


A blackout day where the weeds can grow,

the dust can collect, the bugs can roam.

The wicked witches wont find an in,

And in the end, I know – I’ll grin.



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