“Two poems about white crosses on Mountain tops” a poem by Eric King


Cross Bright_1-L

There’s a cross across the road

To me it looks more like an X

to mark the fucking spot

where they dump those who are forgot

It doesn’t give hope or inspire faith

It’s a tragedy and a human waste

those were people, with love and fear

and now their dust on the mountains

Which isn’t where I’d want to be

to get as fucking far away from here

They didn’t get released,

no compassionate freedom

They will forever overlook the last place

they ever existed in human form

the fences can’t hold energy

and dust can fly fucking free

but it’s a reminder, that they’d rather burn your dead body

Than set you free…

I need a shovel
I need a shovel to dig up the corpses
those who never got to choose
those who were burnt to a crisp
those who can’t and never could
say get me from this place
I want to take a baseball bat
and smash that cross
that mocks the dead and pretends that forgiveness
is something they’ve obtained
People die every day
still wrapped in society’s chains
It haunts me every night that I sit in front
of this fucking window
Its the give and take cause if you want the moon
then you have to deal with hell also…
”White crosses on Mountain tops,
I wana smash them all”…

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