Men of the world, do not hold your children down.

home of the genocide,
home of its children.

I walked a mile
of broken glass
with men in white trilbies
and 3 piece suits
of skin.

The sky was red
and the moon hid his face
among clouds of blood
and his own guilty tears.

One comment

  1. slynne · August 11, 2008

    Wow. these get better every time I come read. This one is fantastic in particular, from title to closing line. I love myth based poetry, tho.

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