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