Author Information
Blast Conservative Scripture,Hyped with Vigor
Folder:
American Ritual What a waste of a melody
On ears of the unimportant
The high society
Debutant courting
Green eaters
Will think
The shade of calamity
Is thick and encompasses
More than you see
Or hoped to know
Or even believe in
I imagine
Carcasses collect on
Certain backroads we
Never think to trespass
As soon we will realize it
We never stay steadfast
I digress
Fix me like those
Forty year old clunkers
We still love to see
Instead of junking them
In yards or the backwoods
Of Tennessee
I still believe in good people
I'm still optimistic
Although a pinch
Of my psyche is reserved
For evil rape murder theft
And raising a boy to be better
Than all of that
