marcusmcmahon
The trunk was the only place I could run to.
I slammed it shut over my head and drifted into a place I'd never gone before.
The melodies of old hymns crossed my mind
And I prayed everything would be better by the time I was found.
I've been asked twice today about this very scar.
No one ever likes the story once I tell them; it's pointless to retell.
Just know that it involves 2 years, a lot of memories,
And a terrible, terrible heartache.
Thank us with sincerity and give us a badge.
Make me feel like I am part of the whole.
Fill our people to the brim with hope for tomorrow.
Break us at the moment we least expect it, Mr. President.
An Iron hull,
And needle eyes.
A flare from somewhere far beneath.
A riot starting in the skies.
Morning rise.
An orchestra of life fills the air.
My voice lifts from my lungs to join in harmony.
This is forever.
This is masterpiece.
Yet, few have remained with this kind of perseverance.
Only those with iron heart and mind, a passion that has not compromise,
Will make any kind of difference in this place.
I can see without my eyes,
I can feel without these hands.
My mind is free to wander, in and out of the void of an non-existent reality
Awakening I sit and watch the world turn.
And the people stare and wonder.
My head and my heart share a mutual feeling;
A longing to be through with this town.
I've known for years what I've wanted,
Yet never made an escape route out.
I want to see the city, I want to see the stars;
I want what every longing soul in the world could possibly need.
What monotony...
Black is black and silver is compounded upon silver.
What a way to live.
In utter hated of the boredom that fills this place.