Scene kids

I can not sing without the medicine

The voice of un-logic

As the spandex of my pants

Wane upon my emotional state of mind.

I collapse within myself,

Aching upon the memories

Like footprints scaled on my back.

I will cry-

In melodramatic tone

Like my black shoes

Bouncing on the floor.

I want you to sing for me

Feed the IV of sorrow

So I can live with this medicine

Of irony

Printed on a tightly fitted

T-shirt.

Sing the sorrow,

Bleed American,

You have stolen my heart…

With your hair.