PM words and paint..

Sorrow on a weak heart makes
For tender lambs slaughter.
Quick with a dull knife
And razor tongue.
With wits whip cracking a tune
On this slaves back justice comes
At a great cost…. Tired….
So tired
From this monkey mind
These shakes of the cerebellum,
Fleeting fast footed archers
Shooting paint brushes into the clouds.
Only to find a headless man
Empty from years of being full
Empty from years of the sun
Tired…. So tired…..
Of this parlor game of pills
Maybe I should go ask Alice
Do you think she’ll know?

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Benjamin
2014

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2 thoughts on “PM words and paint..

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