by Stephanie Moore
Hard to be happy then
From back where we’ve been
Where we want for only Heaven
But we breathe to spite our end
There’s no shame in being beat down
We hold a heavy crown
Chaos is a bloodhound
And we stumbled on her ground
Such a filthy, rotten harvest
To make wine has been our test
These hands have turned to callous
Is it a foolish or noble quest
Look at us so renegade
We sang where they prayed
Some choose to back away
While others fall on the grenade
You and I have busted feathers
But no one else wears it better
Sometimes we can’t be sheltered
Darling, we all have our Helter Skelter
Stephanie Moore is a poet and lyricist. She has had published work in The Raven’s Perch and The Mighty. She has a blog of her poetry and lyrics at sjm512.blogspot.com.
Portage Magazine 