and we wonder
who put her under
you have not yet heard the thunder
the lightning hit
and you with your child-eyes under cover
missed the news that the world is over
and you with your white hands
still reaching for the bright light candy
don't you know the hall is empty
that the fear had been set free
and you with your skin still smelling of that baby cream
do not even know enough to scream
cannot find the words to ask me what I mean
when I say that its the end of the scene
that all that's left is truth and that it's obscene
and you just look and want to know if you're the king
if I'll be your bright light queen
and you wonder why, you wonder why i scream
you wonder
what put me under
what pushed me over this edge
and from the dark I'll whisper
it was this, it was knowledge
and you'll go back to sleep
because ignorance is cheap
1 comment:
so many layers of thought here...i love it. I'm tempted to just copy and paste everything i've already said in praise of this poem onto here, but repetition is only emphasis if done effectively, so:
"death itself is not to be feared - that is just the ceasation of life. Rather, fear what death reveals about life, or rather the waste of it"
:D
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