Healing Is Still

When the streets bleed
With vibrating violence
We know that only scares the guilty
Hanging like
The victims they laid
Aside in their greed;
Healing shall still be far away.

When grass grows
Over crumbled ruins
Abandoned and exposed,
Rebels of a forgotten war
Who plundered all its worth
Relaxing in their misdeeds
Shall fever in the night
And visions reminding them
Healing shall still be far away.

When flags tear at their seams
Weakened in the wind
Salt licking at the sides
Of metal catastrophes
Blowing weeds that take control
Shall struggle upon the ground
Understanding their due;
Healing shall still be far away.

When the last engine
Seizes from strain
Deep in jungle rain, overgrown
And wildcats become predator
Most feared and most bestowed
Vines and trees, all wide and tall
Laying over all regrown
Healing shall still be far away

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If It Is You (day 1379)

I crumple into random acts of sincerity.

“Who are you hollering at?” I said,
Half past the guilty and looking down the road at
Honesty.

Did an Angel touch your shoulder gentle-like?
I felt a slight flutter
In a whirlwind of forever,
Dancing in my opera house memory.

Hold onto you like it is you,
And if it is you be you.