Flowers in the rubble 

they were born in crystal towns
glasses inside their eyes, a cellophane heart
rampaging  through infatuated streets
clinging on to fleeting stories
of ghostbusters and tardy glories
they were seen
petty and uneasy

the tune we used to listen to when we were 17
the rock of the masses and the pop of the uninvited
"we're sorry we are naughty,
but not for stealing a line or two in your afternoon paper"

silence for the loud ones is like crunches for the crippple
our pride will tow the glow
a twinge in your toes, a flashing hotel room
a fear of accomplishment devours their oath
to move on and flaunt their new routine

the tune we used to listen to when we were 17
the rock of the masses and the pop of the uninvited
"we're sorry we are naughty,
but not for stealing a line or two in your afternoon paper"

say no it's a maybe doesn't matter anymore
Trojan hopes plastered with ketamine
i was scared before i even believed
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s