Putrescence

I have the clapping hands
Of a four year old
The acumen of a marigold
The love you get
From a chopping block
The patience
Of a New York Cop

You ever lived for ever
Well it must hurt like this
I am the sin of everyone
And I don't wanna live

I am the silken hair
On a rotting corpse
The opiates in your racing horse
The caress of God
In a hammer blow
The sensuality
Of a serrated knife

You wanna lived for ever
Well it'll hurt like this
Be the sin of everyone
And I won't have to live

© 2005, Mosquitobyte