At the Corner

 

Like you, I aim
The guns are up
Two shots and will arrive my peace
With my head and my heart to bleed

The wings aren’t real to me
Stopped by the scent in the air of need
Bloated bodies at the corner of every street
When will they hear us calling?

There is no where else to go
What was built has fallen and there’s hell below
It’s always justified; so many people had to die
Watch another many souls cross to the other side

They are aggressive in their lies
Leaving the agony of their mistakes all for another life
So preoccupied with an expensive feel
No one here wants to be made real

A dollar bill beat up and grossly passed around
Understand I am sorry— your creased make me cry
We were dropped with hate upon the ground
And scarred with all we’ve figured out

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