Poetry For The Poets

You wave hello to the blind
Give your word, take a bribe
Lend a hand, adding arms in time
The cure is worse
Than the pain inside
You feed the poor with a sigh
Empathize when you’re high
Open doors, but the room is mine
The cure is worse
Than the pain inside
This is the morning after
We live the morning after
Save a soul, take a life
There is more safety in numbness
Save your breath from the world outside
The cure is worse
Than the pain inside
This is the morning after
We live the morning after