If Only The World Would Listen

Her eyes were hazel like the whiskey I sat
down to drown myself in
Her stiletto heels cruel, unforgiving
Vowing, if not plotting, to stomp the world
Of all its bigotry and hatred
If, only the world would listen.

But I listened because I was not a part of the world
I was a part of the lost tribe—that great tribe
Of wanderers and misfits
Of convicts and drunkards
Of thieves and jesters
Unsettled by the howls
Reaching over the hills
Through the treetops
Below the murmurs and tides

So I took her by the wrist and together we fled
To the surface of the perforated moon
Away from the voices
Away from the opinions
Out of the garden
Like barons in the prison sun, seeking
Sanctuary, knowing peace—lasting peace—rested
On the frontlines of one final war.
If, only the world would listen.

And together, at last, we filled our cups
Partaking of a greater knowledge—higher justice
Whirling around the wastes of our souls
Shedding the sneers of experts
Muffling the snarls of magistrates
Standing at the lit doorway
Sowing
Present without future, past without present
Future without past

This is the only way
I have ever known how to love
And this will always be my greatest downfall

Written By Brandon Loran Maxwell