black thoughts

at times, I too almost dream

a rustic haze of nostalgia covers me

unable and unwilling to lay down the past

my future is nearly here, but I think I can outrun her

the nature of things is in the living

tactility fails us when we seek to grasp what is most important

my generation cries out for change, for hope, for belief is something real

our elders disappoint us and chastise us, and this is how we hang our heads

a lexicon that lasts a thousands years is out of reach

full of expressions that barely express anything

one can refuse almost anything, any day, any pill, any drink

but it’s difficult to shrug off the truth

contamination of thought

being different takes on a whole new meaning

value has been ascribed to our nonconformity

we now watch with our ears, and listen with our mouths

possessing such arrogance of thought

seeing parents’ advice drip from the ears of their progeny

there is a sense of the inevitability of all that we are

more has always been needed that what men have been willing to give

burn these words before reading

there is no blood in them, no life

the triumph of martyrs long gone begs for the screams of fiery syllables