Punk

Night is black, streets are wet, tears stream down in weep. Hands raise, red reflects, warm and cold with guilt, knees crack in stumble. Bowed both body and soul, sky returns gaze, a single blink and its day. Sun sets, red, pink, and grey hues, yous walkin, gun in hand, death in mind. He turns, you point, freeze! The both of yous….

The bow lets loose, threat strikes your heart, its pumping, blood’s flowing, sweat’s rollin and eyes are itching. You wanna get straight, stop trippin and get your mind right, but he’s still talkin.

Eyes explode, flesh blows in as gun spurs. Grey smoke floats, his body thumps, punk’s dead.

Realization, blink and blink, two steps forward, barrel looks down on him, just like your wet eyes. You can hear your spirit bashing the walls of your thrashing heart, punk’s dead, and you killed him. Knees crack in stumble, hands wet with foreign blood. Bowed, both body and soul, the sky returns gaze, a single blink and it’s blue.

Sun shines, yellow’s the flower’s colour, you set it atop his chest, his deaf nose smells its sweet odour, you stare at each other, green earth at black space, your fingers crease across his face, shutting his eyes, for good.

You back away, casket closes, dirt crushes, now you stand atop a fresh grave with a bleeding heart.

You stare at each other, the sizzling sun at rising hell.

Tis time indeed, heads nod as the war drums beat, the heat sizzling fourth sweat’s break. Knees crack in stumble, bowed, body not soul, the sky gazes upon you, eyes fixed on the tombstone.

A single blink and we’re back, hands are dripping red, heart’s beating out of your chest, you’re out of breath, the sirens don’t care though.

Looks like another punk’s gonna die today…….

 

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