Josh Schneider

Scuffing my feet across this asphalt plain,

I spot your figure off in the wavy distance.

I rush off to meet you face to face,

But only to watch you fade into the dust.

Chasing illusions and false hopes,

My feet are worn down to the bones.

With one final, futile grab from my brittle hands,

I collapse on the sands of time, alone.

Like a soldier on the field,

You are shot down, enemy or not.

Judged based not on character,

But on uniform appearances alone.

Your heart, another target for their guns,

Their bullets of mouth piercing your skin.

One bad apple in your bunch,

Has set your dim fate as well.

They went after those that,

Failed the IQ test of life.

Those with their head up their ass,

Instead of in the books.

Your cries of secession from the unit,

Go unheard from the explosions nearby.

And your head is caught in enemy scopes,

As you take that final breath.

The nice guy always finishes last,

While the prick lives to run another day.

Your body is just another tally,

As your heart crumbles onto the pile.