top of page

It's Just Us Down Here

We grow up on fairy tales

   And Santa Clause 

And for a brief moment

    We believe in magic

But as we grow

   As we get exposed to reality 

As the wheel turns . . .

   We learn the truth

Magic isn’t real

   And this world burns underneath our feet

While we tiptoe on a wire above

   With flames flickering at our heels

Darts being shot down from the ivory towers 

   Bullet’s wiz by our ears

  Bombs drop around us

Satellites record it for the heavens to watch

   Where the grasshoppers clap and laugh at us

While they watch us dance to their whims

  One wrong step away from becoming bacon

. . . We grow up listening to Flick

Believing that us ants have a chance

   We don’t

There are no heroes

   The poison is hope

No one around here would ever take a stand like Flick did

   There are no heroes or villains

What's down here is us

   It’s just us down here . . .

A bunch of damn cowards

With no magic and no chance

   The fairy tales are just stories

Everything you see 

   That’s our fault 


Gulp.


CH 3/9/25

 
 
 

Recent Posts

See All
Almost Enough

To let go   and detach     just enough     to see it clearly,     while still holding onto seeds of hope,      is almost enough       to grow . . .      Not quite, though. You can’t really let go     

 
 
 
To Love

To love is to die To love is to sacrifice our pride To love is to let someone live within To love is to be hurt some day To love  is to know happiness is only real when shared To love is to truly trus

 
 
 
Into The Wild

Into the wild    He went    To be alone     Fed up with the demands of western society     Fed up with relationships      Tired of all the pressure     Burnt out by the grind     With a deep desire to

 
 
 

Comments


Post: Blog2_Post

©2021 by Clintwritingshit. Proudly created with Wix.com

bottom of page