Saturday, April 14, 2012

Soul Soldier Riot

Rain like the sound of tap dancing little feet
horns blow on lips
lovers drive in figure eights
the black bird baths in a public pool
recess has the voters
polticians trade lives
and we are all nature
the clock drips within the evenings
it drips causes together
for one world
what could it all mean,
when boundaries are bought off
by untapped resources
and it goes on , humbled
languages are now seen eye to eye
house on the hill is leveled
the public celebrates
status quo is opened
we embrace
as traffic stops to walk
limits breakdown
solitude is social
in between the lines we all sing

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