the shining source. the deadly dark.
the scarlet wound. the purple mark.
the evil lives beneath the ground.
listen for that wailing sound.
a song i never thought i'd hear.
the flashing sirens look so near.
but when they get here, hide away.
they're here to hurt and they're here to stay.
so i'll lie across the yellow lines.
this mess we're in is wholly mine.
i'll greet the policemen in their golden crowns.
i'll let the policemen beat me down.
2 comments:
um who what? did you get pulled over?!??!?!
ohhhhh.
hm, this poem is a lot better now. (i mean, not that it wasn't good before, you are talented etc etc, but there's a certain desperate anger i can understand now that i know your inspiration.)
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