The dead talk to me

not my ancestors, long dead

and they weren’t my friends


I’ve never met them

some of them died yesterday

some were killed today


either way, they talk

they go on about the dreams

they couldn’t follow


it’s hard to chase dreams

when someone is chasing you

then, out of the blue


you’re dead, with nobody

to talk to, but they find me

somehow they find me


they think I can free

them all from purgatory

but I don’t believe


in the dead, only

the living, I’m just giving

them my ears because


someone needs to hear

what we ignored while they lived,

someone needs to speak


loudly for the dead,

and it’s us with our red hands

they speak to you too,


but you ignore them

be careful though, once you start

listening to them


you can’t stop, you hear

every single voice clearly

and there are countless.

About soitgoes1984

I live on a small island in the middle of the Pacific ocean in the Hawaiian Kingdom which is currently illegally occupied by the American government and military. I am addict, struggling to kick the habit of fossil fuel. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.
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