ARMS HUNG LOW
From heart to eyes flow black inkStanding before the crowd affixed
Riveted to my rear view mirror
No better than a backseat driver
I held them captive with muteness
Body language in a sixth sense
Only a realness in truth spoken
The volume was pretty sky high
Arms hung low
Head just as well
Heavy they toll
For the weight thereof
Arms hung low
A quietness before the whipping
Our father is done speaking love
Hope the queen isn't with child
From prince to pauper hell'll be
Oh dear princess, seen not heard
Her wisdom as cloudless skies
One must consider the sun's power
The moon and its great influence
Arms hung low
Head just as well
Heavy they toll
For the weight thereof
Arms hung low
Hung low
Hung low
Hung low
Arms hung low
Copyright, Nathaniel London Jr.
All rights reserved by author 2013
Poetry by France England
Read 509 times
Written on 2013-01-30 at 20:53
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