this will be the year that
all words are shown to be
meaningless
these will be my hands
balled into useless fists
the sun blinding and without heat
the distance between us
no more than it's ever been
but now i'm older
have buried lennon and
cobain and bukowski
have ended up with a
life i never wanted
with a house full of empty rooms
and a notebook bleeding
bitter poems and what i
still believe is that christ never
wanted to be your savior
what i still refuse to accept
is the idea
of a benevolent god
no one lets children be
butchered in the name of love
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