Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+ |
Custom Search
|
|
||||
Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 19:49:07 AEST | ||
|
||||
|
||||
|
|
Array
(
[sid] => 133816
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Rattle
[time] => 2007-04-25 16:38:23
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => I won’t wish away these days I’m not going to pray it all away It’s just a sickness in my hands and my fears getting in the way It’s just a black book crossed on out And a religion torn about A voice itching out to shout With more wrong reasons then I can count You don’t deserve the dirt of slaves I’d deny you the nature’s rain You swallow sin, you take it in You thrive on down trodden pain I’ve felt your touch it’s and it is cold The act you got ran old This figure’s armor’s been ripped off You’re no longer tough or bold Since the dawn of a sling shot war And a hunger out for more We took our eyes to the skies and store At that poisonous clouds downpour And if you feel like you’ve down wrong Let your hands reach out where they belong Collecting toxic rain, in a shivering project All nightlong Go on and mark your ignorance as bliss The silver snake, it’s whine and hiss Will plant a fang into your stream Through two teeth marks in the wrist In pain you’ll wallow and cry Till green fills your veins and it nurses you To die Don’t be shy now, your tombstone is written out Sonny boy, you know the reason why In a building in Washing D.C. The home of hope and to be free Where fiddlers fiddle well With the drapes closed so no one in can see I see a serpent in the wings That a savior calls and brings Greed incarnate bites and stings Like a cold conscience in a swing Like the murder of Americana’s kings I see you little pet Paying for all our debts Slithering toward the gold Without a guilt, a thought, regret And let your aim be true The country gives thanks to you Through martyrdom of bite And a parade of press revue And if you ever thought This writings a prophecy and I’ll get caught It’s you the snake is after It’s the reason greed is bought And you best watch your life I’m done being so calm and nice Love is bitter; it’s a war thicker Then a desert occupation or a polar melting ice And a voice cannot rest With venom in the throat It doesn’t tell just to gloat It tells so that you’ll invest That if you play with lives Like a child and a snake You best have a reason to die Because nature doesn’t give, it takes And people don’t just die They’ll stand up and defy Not with a shot gun shell, but a living hell Do you hear a rattle? I think I hear a rattle [comments] => 0 [counter] => 139 [topic] => 41 [informant] => Franciswolf [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => political )
|