A dark poem about recent events and what we as humans can be capable of. |
-No One Left That is Real- by Keaton Foster No one left that is real All around are wolves Hungry bastards of flesh Animals looking to feast Our dispensable lives Always hang by a thread No place is truly safe No place is sacred Everywhere is a kill box The line between victims And killer is quite blurred Innocence means nothing When it should absolutely Mean most of all Impossible atrocities Happen in every nook And in every cranny True darkness resides Places of once safety Have become prisons Locked from both The inside and out There will be no escape With regard to anyone involved Madness manages Goodness is obliterated Hatred comes to easy The right thing has Become an impossibility Victims are always slain By monsters created Sometimes we love Someone so much Beyond all that should be reasonable It makes us completely blind We don’t want to be told We don’t want to know How could such a gift be made hollow Living does not guarantee a soul Breathing means nothing If the heart and the mind Are not in sync A balance must be adhered to Right and wrong need to be Much further apart The dead often try to speak Upon the silent wind Their names echo for all time What they have to say Speaks not of them But of ourselves and what We are capable of The blood of many are on The hands of our kind We are all just as guilty As the man pulling the trigger We ignored the signs We pushed aside the warnings And when something needed to be done We did nothing at all No one left that is real Is what should be said Because I fear that such a Terrifying idea is more true Than anything we know… No One Left That is Real Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2012. |