Sunday, April 7, 2013

That Thing Poets Do In April: 5/30

They came in like a parade
Throwing the corpes of those before him
Singing songs of victory
Surely there will be brighter days like this
As if the world had 2 suns
"That's my boy" and "Make us proud'
Forgiven them, hermano...
They know not what they say

As the dancers passed by with horns blazing
Leading the float carrying him by
We locked eyes
He gave me a head up
I head nod
That exchange would reply sooner or later
He got his scholarship
Someone thought him so wise and above the curve,
They are going to pay him to see if he can advance the way we think
Be something more than what was thought
It's a time to celebrate 
And I thought otherwise

People are always talking about the Rose that rose from concrete
But, never talk about how it is plucked all too soon
Placed in a vase
Left to wither a long, agonizing death
Perhaps left at it's roots
Crucified by the stares of non-believers
"You don't belong here"
Crucified by those higher achievers
"You don't belong there"

A rose up for auction 
Cast your opinion
Win an "I told you so"
Lose nothing
Except a rose
Who's glory is shoved under envy
Just like...
*snaps fingers trying to remember*
...that one rose that almost made it.


"I believe things will only get better"...You're a liar/ I wish the words of your mouth weren't such a contradiction to your image

Keep your head to the sky with this yoke on your back/ Can't see it/ All you have are memories of when you could lift your head and the faith that it's still there...still blue/

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