The fall.

Quietly move close to the edge

tiptoes curled over the ledge

make the symbolic cross, a muted pledge.

Looking down, until one looks above

to see the embodiment of peace and love

reformed as a suicidal dove.

Yesterday enters today

Anger at the continuous battles

a start line of the wealthy

and the consequences herd us like cattle

fire to fire, it's hell you see

only inferno embers roam free.

Power of old.

When I was young
I had to listen to what the grown men said

they talked about the power of respect and that I had to learn it quick

before like them, I'm in and out of that cell and broken glass I'm fed

and I'm still learning and I refuse to quit
even though the power of old
is lying in the dirt, sick.

When I was young
I had to listen to what the grown women said

they talked about the power of respect and that I had to learn it quick

before I turn into the ones they know, that only see to the end of the bed

and I'm still learning and I refuse to quit
even though the power of old
is lying in the dirt, sick.