Rabbits Chasing Rabbits, by Roderick Veach Subscribe to rss feed for Roderick Veach

so this is where your footsteps finally end
and this is where they bury all your friends
imaginary lines drawn out
you had the plans to build your town
a place to go and never to look back
a place to go and never to look back


of all the personalities you cast
the molds you made in case you want them back
you had your hand at playing god
you twisted sick pornographer
they called you out and showed you your own face


escape, escape
until you find your sacred place
away from hate
a place to go where you know that your safe
the only place that you feel safe


you paint your cave because you fear the sound
of brand new rain and plant growth on the ground
one thing is born another dies
the balance between earth and sky
the old man mourns and we all turn alike


a cup of tears someday an empire makes
even Cesar regrets certain days
for years the stories will be told of the weeping chalice
and the road
but will your cave be dry enough to save


escape, escape
until you find your sacred place
away from hate
a place to go where you know that your safe
the only place that you feel safe
where you're safe
Posted: 2014-01-02 02:18:19 UTC

This poem has no votes yet. To vote, you must be logged in.
To leave comments, you must be logged in.