a poem on “the geography of poverty” || spoken word скачать в хорошем качестве

a poem on “the geography of poverty” || spoken word

this tangible sciamachy this depression of land we live in a container capturing shadows in harvest we all recognize this place her fatigued scintilla on the side of the highway before we all turn back to our devices these are our vices because we once thought all moments deserved color i watched her lips turned black and i remembered the morosis of my perspective she’s never seen her face in the mirror i’ve never seen hands so callused the world whispers callously that some scars never heal and no matter our palinoia paradise is in ashes cascading onto her eyelashes reminisce the last drop of wishing well child, this balter is for you and me a finale before you crumble on top of the tradition of ravaging through graveyards for their long lost sweven i’ll count to seven close your eyes and when you open them i will have deconstructed this macabre opus