I am no giant myself,
Sleeping on the ground,
Somewhere on the edge,
Madness in the bottle,
Feeling okay,
On a biscuit a day,
Eating soulless,
Life is poor and shoddy,
A mile,
At a hundred miles a day,
What makes you a man,
What makes a Democracy,
Fear and disdain?
Any man,
Would have giving his,
Only begotten son,
For this thing,
We call Democracy,
To watch it burn,
In those patriotic flames,
To swirl among the dead,
To swear an allegiance,
For which it stands,
One fuck up,
Until we died,
One nation,
Burning internally,
Under God,
That day,
For when we commit suicide!
About the Creator
Jason Giecek
A poet who cannot rhyme, a dreamer who dreams in reality, realist who gave up realism last week as part of his plea agreement. The courts got nothing!! Nothing!
I'm on Twitter --- https://twitter.com/MisterDonkeyKon FOLLOW ME!
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