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Pockets & Knives


They tell you money is owed,
Without things drawn.
You can't take pockets and knives,
Into shops no more.
Pass this point, quietly,
Don't wake up your gall.
When life move you out of your mind:
Frustration's adored.

When I was but a boy, lying down was a dare.
When I was just a man, shaking down but a stare.

They sell you prices and lies,
Out from distant shores.
Order your food, emotively:
Plates stack on the pall.
Marks are spotted informatively.
Cities crumble walls.
Volume turned down-on, a future of sighs:
Echoes in these halls.

When I was but a boy, lying down was a dare.
When I was just a man, shaking down but a stare.

Money is owed.
Pockets and knives.

Money is owed.
Pockets and knives.

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