shithole

bruises flooded with blood

numbness soaked in mud

deceit cloaked under

a carbon made bumper

running over 

every endeavour

the weigh of rusty promises

scraping against the flesh 

embedded in dusty lies 

so that even a tear cries

and a stench of sleaze

fueling the breeze

but hey, what do you know

I'm a fuckin flower, I grow

even under the rubble 

I won't crumble 

I know behind the clouds of smoke

and raging thunderstorm 

the sky's always blue

my paradise I've created anew

as the howling of wolves fade 

and hissing vultures group in a wake

all but distant murmur 

I sense the tremor

of many a relentless soul

in my shithole