perpetual limbo.

and wondering why the seasons change,
I believe god wanted a broader range.
for skins to come in different hue;
children smiling white, black, and blue.

and speaking of the way things were,
I believe god wanted us all to slur.
words won’t come, as they often do.
but when we’re drinking, it all gets through.

and all the promises the children make,
god wanted to see just whom would break.
because I am me, and you are you.
but what are we-
when we’re all through?