Blank Pages

it's the last days of summer dogs, men and women,  trees and scared skyline by the river proclaiming the dawn of a new time, a new era,  a firework is coming,  erupting,  dripping from the fingers the broken, ragged figures shuffling from the trains,  coming by foot, not faceless, no more,  but the fruits  of our smug ignorance wrenching in their guts while we  turn our eyes away with decadent sobs. faces, so many, thousands and more men, father, mothers, women,  elders and children wrapped in blankets of horrors and hopes mashed with undefined expressions and fools stand by the road and shout, bottles sticks and stones break bones and utter hate and greed pouring from their shutters With the relicts of a broken idea a Weltanschauung  producing only hate and despair a Weltanschauung  so far beyond all reason it hurts fools with nothing but the mischief they mutter and i fear, it might soon be dark again in germany, a winter's tale my answer 

days break hands in pieces lies a home. you never could forget the blues in darkest tone there's a gap that strikes death. in alabama backyards foam of memories from yesterday and you're chewing on a bone. those outlived flags flap in the wind a poison and a lie made by your next of kin expecting you to die. and you find yourself in shatters on the other side of oceans. get away. it screams and patters in the dark back of your skull. one last nod to your friends and your family as well. they ask you "where?" and you just answer "hell". on afternoons at beaches far away from home stink of purity and preachers carving tombstones from their bones you packed all your things little boxes full of junk. sprung from promises that you safe kept in your trunk. you put them on shelves  and labeled them. quite nice. however worthless now to millions and trashed unrecognised.