Street Talk
Substance abuse froze and refused to save me from
The street side performances inducing an endorphin run.
Caddallacs, meth labs, and vistiril.
I stand still, in shock,
Between round abouts,
Ins and outs,
Please leave me instilled with the power,
To perfect the ryhthm of this flower.
It's the tulips that fuel up indecision.
I can't compromise the way it hits your soul,
It's heaven to the tenth power,
A common goal.
Picture perfect it's the syrup that sets a pace,
Like lavender laced with the tempo of a rat race.
It's life, death, and everything in between,
Subsequent and sequentially out of peak.
A listing,
A vibe,
A reason to hide beneath the covers and
Sit alone and wonder,
"What's left of this mess weave made?"
Refugees left with no memory of their dear lives and family,
Genocide, cyanide, and chem trails,
"When is this madness going to stop?"
"Fuck it, let's build a new light rail."