Terrorist

I am met with those evil eyes,
staring at me like I was the crime, I stood my ground.
As the scared child behind me cries,
and the crowd around me, without a sound.

Is helping a human have stable food a crime,
is it such a scary thing to see someone with a smile?
Am I now the antagonist for standing around at nighttime?
Did you really think the dancing frogs were so vile?

'Food not Bombs', feed the hungry for free,
oh no not anymore, that is deemed an offense.
They go door to door like on a killing spree,
tearing apart families for only a few cents.

The world burns by your hand,
but you label me an arsonist.

Helpless sometimes, as I remembered
the last time I breathed in the toxic smoke.
There the crowd was, they never left.
No matter how hard you threw back,

they threw back twice as hard.
With the tears of broken families,
with the memories of murdered children,
forever in everyone's hearts.

Never to be forgotten

Trauma [Part 2]

Push and pull,
wired in our brains,
the strive for connection.
But there's an alarm,
a warning, warning of a past.
And so the connection never comes.
pull
pull
pull
Then letting it jump off of a cliff,
and off to his little cave he goes.
Never to venture out.
His soul, he grips it with force,
'honey let it go, you're going to kill it'
But he puts it further into his rib cage.
run
run
run
Off he goes like a scared little boy,
though his eyes animal-like.
Teeth could have been sharp,
his hands only knew how to break precious things.
The rage he couldn't control, the pain he let flow,
But at night he would
cry
cry
cry
For all the wrong doings, and for
the things he never done.
And all he could ever done,
forever in this cycle.
Blinded, but those eyes could see.
And yet with those seeing eyes,
never met with the hands that would caress.
Always the ones that would make him bleed.
He continued to hold a tight grip
onto his soul.
Till there was nothing, as it faded,
and he was no more.

Nothing but a husk, that was once him.