Flick knives and fist fights,
It's sometimes murder here on nights.
One arrested, one accused,
Something to fill out the boring evening news.
Police lines, grieving wives,
Those with courage fight and lose their lives,
To big men with a little blade,
Someone lied and told them: in this cruel way men are made
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I am a 25 year old poetry and short story writer who also makes music. Been writing since i can remember, follow if the words touch your heart :) soundcloud.com/crashexhibition
(I think this will be evolved soon). Hate forged metal. And kids packing heat. Horizontalizing bodies. And verticalizing feet. Putting lead into flesh. Without missing a beat.
Like Marvin said, "What's Going On" I just can't cope I'm not that strong I heard the news today A man's spitting hate down London way A is for Anarchy V for Vendetta When will things ever get...
Awesome. Can I suggest choosing a different title though? The current one seems a little glib for the poem.
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