sorenbarrett

Word surgeon

In a pink cloud of pain

Blood does rain

As it falls to the earth

And returns again

Its taste is red

Where the rainbow bled

From a butcher that cut

Ideas out of my head

Raw, living thoughts cannibalized

The brutality civilized

By a political janitor sanitized

The word pirate schemes

To muffle the screams

Of verbal genocide, under the dust of

dun spattered dreams