sun-day

carry the gun
carry the pen
carry love
like water
in the cup of your hands
whisper a blasphemous prayer
and run
write
shoot the moon
and ink the stars
with passive emotion
seek solace in the word
remember what you came here for
and forget
where you’ve been

the priests
the teachers
the politicians
all lied

the only truth
lies inside
like a piece of
dirty coal
constantly under pressure
waiting to become a diamond

289-sun-day

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