Hook in my mouth, I will not rise above the sea.
Dredging through days of docile normality.
Seeking sights that might drive feeling.
Not leave me staring into oblivion.
With clouded eyes of lost to the fog.
Soul swallowed by those labelled misunderstood.
Hanging noose filled to the brim.
Seldom is there a free verdict given.
Parted like a head from body by guillotine.
Itch beneath skin, that never fades far away.
Leaving behind a constant negativity.
As angels drown in tar pools.
Devils think we’re all fools.
Madness grips with talons.
Bleeding out amongst the fallen petals and flowers.
Vitrify futures with odes written by crooks.
They learned all these versus from old textbooks.
Stitched together passages they thought would bring peace.
Reality spat out only violence and grief.
Cancerous entities built by minds most corrupt.
These are the forms that now instruct.
Strike down innocence and replace with bile.
On the backs of new dawn they act serpentile.
By dowsing homes with gasoline.
Their attempts are to wipe us all away clean.
Simon A Jackson - Writer 