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papa waѕ a rollιn' ѕтone

Last Login:
January 21st, 2019


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Gender: Male

Age: 109
Country: United States

Signup Date:
July 05, 2014


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01/08/2019 05:40 PM 

Journal Stuff

Oh, don't you remember
You know 
We've been here before
When the summers 
Of our childhood's 
Seemed endless
And these stories were our lore
Remember when the 
Lessons they taught us
Became in-beaded into our skulls
Writhing
Etching words into thoughts
Like graffiti 
Painted in colorful spray cans
On the white and black walls 
Of chalk boards 
And unmoving boxcars
On the blank slates of dead windows
And the cold, unforgiving cement walls
Unlike the lessons our mothers told us
Written in knives
Carved 
In the back of our minds
First on young trees
Planted in symmetrical lines
To be harvested 
Drawn 
In endless beaches of sand 
To be washed away by tsunamis 
Sculpted 
From the dirt, mud on the ground 
Trampled, by the stampedes
Of Ambulances, and Fire Engines
Ineffectively dousing water 
On a burning city  
Now our heads our empty
Only our hearts
Are full

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