Plain

by Anthony Vito Fiandaca - Not entered

Listening to the rage of angst,
Screams without syllables 
Grunting apes
You couldn’t blame them though

The meat of red thighs born to feed 
Supplying the constant demand
“Me man, you mine”
He meet another, don’t like one another
No want t’share mine
Not my kind
 
Where the anxiety of pains creep up and seep into to hate
The conscious youth, seeking unconscious life 
Freedom, 
From What?
From Who?
You?
 
What is free?
Does that mean I can choose the way that I see?
Couldn’t that be in any life?
Whether or not they say it’s right.

To any freedom,
To any choice,
To all the people stifled by power;
To scream out to the soul of another,
To this god thing people toy with.
“He Gave ME the right to do this,
to kill and breed my hate!”

Bullshit don’t you think?

Reason for writing:

    I was hanging out at this place called the Elvis Room in Portsmouth, NH. There was a hard core show that night, I forget what bands were playing but this is how I reacted.    

Birth sign: Not entered
Date created: 1999-04-11 20:48:50
Last updated: 2021-03-03 14:41:01
Poem ID: 52212

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