Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
Unpopulated
It feels like a deserted neighborhood here.
I hear the silence distract
My thoughts of poetic form.
I hear nothing,
Aside from a gentle breeze.
I'm lost.
Everything is frozen.
The clouds are dead in the sky,
Stuck between the
Coming of a storm
And the beginning of a day.
Frozen in place.
The neighborhood is dead,
Whether from sleep or
Disease; it's unknown.
A once lascivious neighborhood
Has been stopped in its tracks.
May 25, 2005
Suge
I hear the silence distract
My thoughts of poetic form.
I hear nothing,
Aside from a gentle breeze.
I'm lost.
Everything is frozen.
The clouds are dead in the sky,
Stuck between the
Coming of a storm
And the beginning of a day.
Frozen in place.
The neighborhood is dead,
Whether from sleep or
Disease; it's unknown.
A once lascivious neighborhood
Has been stopped in its tracks.
May 25, 2005
Suge
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Unpopulated
Unpopulated