Aug 21, 2011 00:55
kids with eyes behind their necks,
and hands tied together,
a juvenile trick and empty spaces,
and their hands are free
eyes that do not twinkle with aspiration,
but blends with black,
like a mixture of dark secrets,
and a smile that reaches
every action does not go unpaid,
and every movement is twofold,
an eye for a black eye, a tooth for toothless,
an excited victory for a motionless body
freedom as wide as a closed fist,
two fists for every person,
a combined anger,
and soon their palms will be impaled
look at me trying to write poetry