How the years poked
sense & poetry spiked
why would you look back
babylon looked like paper
it was just a factory
the end of an old road
the trees were finished
the leaves were done
this war killed them
we’d killed them too
hold me tightly
whose metres swayed
hold me tightly
leaves are growing
how can this be true
unless you're a bird
& stating the obvious is
the same as you don't listen
Jah would never give the power to a bald head
ReplyDeletetrue dat
Delete