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Random poem from random sparks of inspiration. Oh so philosophical! ...Or not.

This man is from the ocean
He falls down with the rain
He's cool and clear and peaceful
But he doesn't have a name

This girl is from the fire
Destruction warms her heart
She's lonely, dark, and broken
But she's my work of art

This boy is from the concrete
He sits his life away
And if you choose to break his heart
There's nothing he will say

This woman's from the darkness
She understands my hate
She whispers in my ear to kill
She knows I hesitate

This soul is from the peices
Of skin inside my mouth;
The blood that trickles down my chin
As I burn down the house

My heart is from the people
They don't deserve to live
And like the people, my heart
Has no reliance to give

So burn the words upon the page
The memory won't stick
As I rip out your blackened heart
You'll know you made me sick