Poetry · Writing

Graves

Do you really believe what your saying?

Tears running dry

washing up your face.

Do you really expect us to care?

High in your towers, keeping an eye on the door

the exit, the door.

If I only see what I can see

I know it isn’t there

and if I only need what I can keep

I know it isn’t fair.

You can look away

while they’re dancing on our graves

but I will stop at nothing.

Do you really expect us, to drop all and leave?

The fire has been lit, keep chiming in

and we will be dancing.

Do you really expect us, to leave it all behind?

an we will remind you

that will rise on that occasion,

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