When Animals Write Poetry

This tragic tragic display leaves me right where I want to be

There's no lake for a vision or no birds to tell us the storm will come

The battered fawn with nothing to lose is just as powerful as a lion fighting for his den

When at any given instinct emotions can run so deep and gore at anything with a face

And escape is but a dream in your present nightmare, bound down and gagged

This isn't what's deserved

and this is all we have

And this is all we know I know you've tried explaining it to me

But it's blocked out by my misery

Now if what you say is true, then this would mean the whole damn thing

is as subtle as a gun to the head

In due time

In due time

Tomorrow wrote a message

(With your message)

For the springtime

And if pencil is to led, as abuse is to the bullet

The next tree stump might be a overdue solitude

As to the boy and the girl who drift apart like shingles

From a rooftop which has lived many stories before us

A life's work can be anything but complete until someone reads

And if a tree falls in the middle of the ocean would the fish keep its secret

Or will they spill their guts, tonight.

And we slow down enough to breath in what we became that night in the woods

Just rip the pages that make up my intentions, this one's for you

Traced out body with a fine wine taste washed down and out to be made delicious

Such a weak day for nature when the dear has to make sweet sweet revenge

How long can we go until forgiveness is just a black and white song?

I will miss the colors if you do