a beer balanced on his poked out belly hunch,
in his hand sits a roll all meat and bread for lunch,
taken only 1 bite but the dog steals the rest,
snoring he sleeps with sweat under his breast,
on his verandah he maintains without heart,
sitting nearby with the odd engine part,
while out in front his rust garden he grew,
brown and black car parts to be his perfect view,
grass grows around it but turns brown also,
his family watched as each part started to grow,
the rain falls down eating into the metal more,
as he hoarded the parts like a uncovered car yard store,
puddles of oil and grease in each hole,
as sometimes he wonders if some others stole,
who would steal rusted crap laying outside,
as his best parts he says are in the garage to hide.

A match was lit to find his way around,
as the eyes reflect a glow in darkness they surround,
slowly the flame goes out at the end of the wood,
again he lights another staying still where he stood,
more reflective eyes are closer than before,
now seeing the saliva drip from teeth it begins to pour,
growls of hunger heard as once again the flame goes out,
in the darkness the sounds of ripping flesh with a screaming shout,
managing to light the last match to see his leg is ripped,
as the flame moves down to burn his finger tightly gripped,
touching the small flame onto the box to keep it alight,
as from the darkness comes another giving him a bite,
tearing the fibers of his already blood soaked leg,
as for a chance in his life he begins to religiously beg,
the box burns quick as his other foot kicks back,
now his leg bleeds more from this continuous attack,
taking the ripped part of his clothing to keep the flame alive,
as he crawls along the stone floor wondering if he will survive,
a ray of light streams through an opening ahead,
he pushes towards it leaving a trail where he bled,
pulling himself out of the hole into the day,
he covers it with a rock so others won't go that way.

hands spinning around to tell the time on the clock,
a smash through the window with a rounded grey rock,
spreading glass over the wooden clean floor,
with a message attached to engage the act of war,
a battle shall commence on the balcony of this place,
hitting with weapons made crudely to replace,
a bat with a knife sticky taped to the end,
the other with a garden tool making sounds to pretend,
hitting harder to draw blood from the skin,
as the other stabs his knife deep within,
tired and sore they both give up close to death,
as the sun rises and they take their last breath,
these are the children we leave to manage after we go,
raised by games of killing or a horror sickening show,
not ever knowing the true way reality actually is,
as the future of the human race is hers or his.

Skids with squealing tires to impress his friends,
excessive speeds collide as he rear ends,
smoke from the engine twists like the metal of the car,
one in the back with blood wondering where they are,
climbing through the broken glass ignoring the pain,
hearing the sound of slow water dripping down a drain,
seeing the car in front with broken rear,
while looking around for anyone else to appear,
taking his phone then calling for help to come,
as a sound from behind is of a beating drum,
someone inside the car in front still alive,
as he walks around seeing the person to survive,
noticing his own friends are not moving at all,
not knowing how long its been since the phone call,
helping the woman out trying not to hurt more,
she screams in pain as her arm is sore,
mentioning her daughter still inside the back,
he takes a look only seeing the darkness black,
searching around he sees her standing without a scratch,
as she was thrown from the car even with a safety latch,
flashing red lights ignite the scene to view,
as his friends bodies are taken by the ambulance crew,
learning himself that being silly while driving is bad,
this lesson needs to be taught to everyone because it makes me mad.

A bomb drops passing clouds with wind rushing sound,
as down below in a factory the target is found,
chemicals mix with impact to explode into flames,
destroying lives without ever knowing their names,
broken buildings collapse in the distance,
as planes fly over without any resistance,
covering the sky with engines loud,
as from far away the smoke just looks like a cloud,
broken metal with broken homes of brick,
soon the dead bodies make the living sick,
only the innocent suffer the true act of war,
making everyone rich join with the poor.

silent strokes of brushing hair,
with frustration taken without care,
pulling hard ripping roots,
the toes curl inside the little boots,
a style at last with an elastic snap,
then with a sudden eye hair fling slap,
no tears to stream on makeup eyes,
as it wells up and then immediately dries,
pushed and forced out on the stage,
as it builds up inside to a hidden rage,
anger contained until the teenage years,
this is when she can show her tears.

sand presses hard pushed by the winds of the south,
covering his eyes and getting deep in his mouth,
with one eye squinted shielding with lashes,
a flicker of light ahead shown in short flashes,
the wind blows stronger against his bare skin,
feeling like a pain digging deeply within,
walking straight but never in perfect lined,
as the sand hits his eye causing him to be blind,
turning away and trying to find his spot,
as the sands hit him hard getting very hot,
burning against his clothes embedded in deep,
reaching out his arms like he walks in his sleep,
finally reaching something solid but unknown what,
feeling the sun on his back getting extra hot,
working his way around the other side into some shade,
as slowly the winds die down to eventually fade,
swirls of burning heat dry his bleeding sore,
his adventure almost bringing death but give knowledge more.

The song heard through the day,
never ever fades its chorus away,
but the little words in between,
have the message remaining unseen,
tell the story inside the song,
as many interpret and get it wrong,
a good song has a story to tell,
even if it sounds like it was made in hell,
don't bother listening if no story is told,
because no inspiration can unfold,
send on a journey with words in tune,
vibrate my eyes as i stare at the moon,
ripples of water mirror the reflecting view,
as the song floods my mind to get the day through.

slept for too long under the covers eternal spell,
to where the places of beauty dreaming fell,
cloud like pillows comfort to never move again,
floating among the trees in a place with no pain,
streams of water pass giving a slight annoyance to their sound,
pushing further along nearer to solid ground,
seeing a little bird with wings flapping fast,
as he opens his mouth with a smile at last,
the sound he repeats as if he cannot stop,
trying to escape so the sound should drop,
it keeps ringing by the ear loudly repeating high,
flying to those comfortable clouds in the sky,
still the sound is pulsing and doesn't miss a beat,
why can't this sound be simple to defeat,
closing the dreamers eyes then imagine of a hand,
moving it over slowly to the night stand,
pressing the right button to switch off the alarm,
as now more dreaming can happen in the safety of the calm.

under the flowers of unfolded leaves,
a worm with a length longest achieves,
captured the eye of a passing magpie,
picking up with his beak for his first try,
practice makes perfect his father reaches,
as the laughing pigeons yell with screeches,
rats of the sky they poop on a car,
as the father magpie looks where they are,
the next lesson is to deal with these pigeons near,
when the father magpie swoops them to bring fear,
they fly away in groups leaving fallen feathers to float,
as the magpies then laugh louder and gloat.