Strawman

Strawman

5-21-15

The first sound you hear, after the silence breaks

A heart beating, once torn apart

Or maybe a scream, muffled and raspy

Is this all a dream, am I even awake?

The chill of the night comes calling

My bones are tired and weary

My head’s all tired of the lies

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven

We all play games, we wish we didn’t

Five, four, three, two, three, two, one

You’re standing here but you are gone

The first voice you hear, when you awake

Is not native to your surroundings

There are images repressed, regrets notwithstanding

Is this my fantasy? It seems surreal

The glow of the morning, not quite cheery

I see the faces, now old and tired

The lines of battle are tight and drawn

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven

We all play games, we wish we didn’t

Five, four, three, two, three, two, one

You’re standing here but you are gone

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