The Elephants Are Weightless

I think it's funny,
I really do.
You see the weaklings who call
themselves nice because they have no claws
They walk.
They talk.
Their judgment lines the eyes of a hawk
(tic-toc o'clock)
And in the palm of his wings they will
case their opinions that stab mere
hearts like a drunken grown man
holding his curse words around the ears of a church
The sun grows black and ears speak
mountains all because the elephants
are weightless.
The rich are poor and the hungry fill
their stomachs with the ideology of
heaven because the men in suits and lies
ties.
You see the weaklings who call
themselves strong because their fear
is stronger than their design.
Brittle and frail conversations line the hallways with listless solicitations..
Unfair wages.
Innocent bruises.
Doorways stacked upon one another,
each with a thin layer of dust.
Each with a story
each with a tale.
Each a descrption of ages.
A description of me.
A description of you.
Ever door linked to every mind, body,
and soul.
Every grave in every hole
The dead are vigorous and the alive are powerless.
because knowledge comes with power
and power to death and death to
influence. 
The chairs are standing and the people are
sitting.
Cancer is strong and men are weak.
Elephants are weightless
Poison files through our lungs like
children in line for a slide.
We take the pass and enjoy the ride.
We take the hit and enjoy the high.
We take each other's lives and mourn
over those who have died.

Excuse me while I hide.
It all makes sense under a sea of blood
and a wave of hope.
It all makes sense because the children
are dead and drunkards sleep in their
comfortable beds.
I've told you once.
And I've told you twice.
you're bathing your laughter in
handfuls of tears.
Understand, rivers and lakes are
formed after many years.
From the rains they are formed the
rivers pour into craters of earth and
rude men with roses scattered in thorns.