by: Jason C. Newton
if i live or die
can you live with it
if i love or hate
can you deal with it
a genetic code perfected
master of the grain
surveyor of beauty
the Death Grip of flesh
could you ever feel it
the sound of crying raccoons
that watch the moon
carry away the perfection of silence
silver, not golden
howling, growling, crawling
scratching every inch of your being
hating the feel of sound breaking skin
hating the look of silence breaking sight
confusion sets the mood,
as alone as can be
as a lone saxaphone reaches for forgiveness
