Have you ever thought of how many souls,
Are seeing the souls of your shoes,
And how many mothers and fathers and children,
Are staring up at you,
All these forgotten graves of past heroes,
And unfortunate ends,
Probably served a meaning at some point,
Now they’re as good as pretend.
Do you hear their nails tearing apart,
The tops of the coffin roofs,
The vibrations of the screams and pleas,
If you don’t I have proof.
C’mon, lend an ear to help a friend out,
Press it against the ground.
Don’t be afraid of the people beneath us,
And listen to the pounds,
Of their voices and nails begging for help,
They will not quell,
Wait a minute I was a little confused,
i look up and eyes swell.
Standing behind one of the graves is you,
Lookin' at me,
A broken boy with his ear on the ground,
is all you can see,
But you do not judge and he does not talk,
about all of his pain,
because you understand he only needs you,
inside of his brain.
don’t look at the past, of shattered glass,
encircled with hurt,
look towards futures we cannot see,
where only love lurks,
Because our souls might be intertwined,
forever with joy,
Because for you, i’d only ever be me,
just your crazy boy,
One that stares down at graves of past,
that stick to his head,
But also looks up and sees his future,
inside yours instead
- Author: Shamoo (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: June 21st, 2018 21:42
- Category: Love
- Views: 16
- Users favorite of this poem: SorrowfullyHappy
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