Don't Try

And he’s probably right
In that there is no point-

All the little rules are still being broken
And replaced with more

The standing
Army of letters and statutes
That will make condemned of us all

And my friends all laugh
And they smile at each other
While knowing

That we are all splinters
Of those who came before us.

That we are all sprung
From the same seed
Of cruelty and of ignorance

And we will die-

All of us-

Knifed between the knuckles of
An empty country

Clinging to our possessions
And tearing our inheritance down
On those huddled around our beds.