White Powder Bullets

Rain,
We dream of rain
To wet the dreams we have,
Quench the pulsing heat
Wash away the footsteps,
Cleanse the spent metal jackets,
Clean dirty hands and sore eyes,
To break the dust.

Hand out the powder bullets
To those who we don’t mind dead,
Paper says what we want
While they shoot themselves in the head.
Hide it in the headlines
Of places big and tall,
Hide it in the faces
Of those that tell us all,
Hide it in the places
You never thought you’d go,
Hide it in the beauty
Of places your not meant to know.

Rain,
We dreamt of rain
To cover what we made,
To cover what we keep
We dreamt of rain to clean us,
Rain,
We dreamt of rain.

by Stuart Doggett

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