Dying Alive, We Tried to Fight

Confusion, people.
It’s not so simple.
The reason why
We build the temple.
We fight with might to save the night.
And dare the one who said, “Let’s fight.”

The child alive, the child inside.
Will it live, or will it die?

See, see. I cannot see.
What’s to come or what’s to be.
Can you help me – Guess not? Oh well.
Oh no, We’re going to hell.

Help, help. I lost myself.
I cannot find the timing belt.
Calling far, calling near.
Calling for someone to hear.
We lost the race. We lost the fight.
We do not need. We lost our right.

Hate, hate. I believe it’s too late.
I tried to love, but we only debate.

Keep it coming, keep it going.
What’s the point? We’re only growing.
See the need and feel the bleed.
It’s not the sex, it’s your inner greed.

Watch, watch. It’s at the top.
It’s getting ready to fall.
I cannot see your coming grave
When the covering is too small.
Help, help. I’m going to.
I loved the right to fight for you.
But now it’s over and we are dead.
It was all a game, but I enjoyed the thread.
Get it? Get ahead.

9-23-1992
Written by Gail Brookshire

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