Paris Burning by Michael Peck

Yes I know those feelings

the love, hate, mistrust

I have felt them

part of my own life you think they change

because of country

time or religion



Paris, 9/11, Iraq, Inquisition

there is no difference

the pain twists those who

are buried beneath it

those whose breath

is taken away by the weight.


Oh yes it’s the same

whether on FOXNews

with a big breasts and cute smile

or laying bloodsoaked

in the alley

cloths ripped and beaten.


What are you thinking?

Don’t you know this

is in part your fault

you’re turning your face away

saves your seeing – not your complicity


you’d damned fool

you think ignorance is bliss

it is a blank passport

for the evil which stalks

your dreams

becoming reality on your TV –


making you sweat late at night

unsure of yourself

because you’ve never looked

further than your pursuit

of pleasure

unaware that the pains

of those who surround you

are not different than yours –


Color is three layers of skin deep

language and religion are learned –

you bathe in your good fortune

never knowing when it will end.

when your life will leave

your body limp and abandoned

like a cigarette butt

on the ground

after the heat and smoke is gone.



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