All the wonderful music, <br />Wouldn’t dare the clouds to return, <br />Overtop the grave site, <br />And leave me scratching, screaming. <br />The most beautiful people, <br />Would never call the sun here, <br />Overtop my engraved rock, <br />And leave me warm, screaming. <br />All the hate in the world, <br />Would pull me out backwards, <br />Spin me for the world to see, <br />And pull the spine out of the back of me. <br />My fingernails will turn to wood, <br />And the splinters underneath are mine to keep, <br />My heart will turn from black to red, <br />And bleed with healing with such immolation of tradition. <br />I will make the most wonder fullest music, <br />And dare the clouds to return, <br />And set overtop the grave site; <br />Where I remain scratching, screaming.<br /><br />Edward James<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/scratching-and-screaming/
