ash and blood litter the streets
as people run in chaotic patterns
with smoke-filled lungs.
dam i smoked my last cigarette.
man with briefcase throwing rocks
at a wall of oppression
as a stampede of varying resolve
charges against it.
i think i should mow the lawn.
eyes blinded with pepper…
blinded with blood…
blinded with rage.
is this all that is on? wanna watch a movie tonight?
some cry victory,
others scream corruption…
painted hands and faces…
like war-paint… hmm…
i think i’ll paint the patio
an eerie cloaked procession
moves to unveil their voices…
almost zeno-stoic…
like some tears that proceed down my face…
and as the first ones reach the corners of my mouth…
my heart finally breaks…
i better mow the lawn
~csr
~csr
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