carry on

poetic terrorism gone wrong and now i feel it in my blood

the things that led us to this point cannot be discussed in polite company

and once again i question the alignment of the stars

but there is a blue collar boy clouded in cigarette smoke

who promises that everything will be ok

and i’m inclined to believe him because i have no other choice

one of the voices of my generation is gone

lost forever in sleep

and on that day i saw our symmetry

as i read the paper in my shaking hands

we are all just victims of ourselves

 all we can do is let our lights shine brightly

and continue with the hope that we can be redeemed

through our words or our love or our death

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