Mars Doesn'T Have The Monroe Doctrine

The lions on Mars,
Are bigger than ours.
Their skies are blue,
But ours are too.
Yes, inverted world it is you who wakes me.
It is you who make us walk languidly down halls,
Filled with doors not meant for opening.
You strum our guitars,
And you speak the words of homeless;
Begging money for a handjob on the corner of Third and Elm.
The science ones were right, Mother, did you hear?
It was the evolution of prayer that created me.
The hitchhikers of Venice were the first to notice.
No one likes a sunset anymore.
The stars by Mars,
Are brighter than ours.
Their skies are blue,
But ours are too.
A sick development of love,
Was created under the bridge yesterday.
Curses,
Invocations,
Loved by all who don't deal with it.
Our grandmothers remember bread at 5 cent loafs.
The corruption of minds,
Came only at times,
When the loss was disregarded;
Like the disposal of a $7 whore back onto the corner of Third and Elm.
The birds on Mars,
Fly higher than ours.
Their skies are blue,
But ours are too.
The streets were pure,
Dictionaries didn't allure,
The death of love was ever-so obscure.
We hate these words,
We hate this world.
Babylon is fading, sweet darling.
Are you ready, Rebellion?
Smoke in the air,
Helmets cover our hair;
Soon to be burnt from our heads by the discretion of one man with the press of a large red button.
His father couldn't and neither can he.
I hope the mindset of Mars,
Is greater than ours.
Their skies are blue,
...ours were too.

by M.J. Dura

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