They Call Me RebelA Poem by Hannah PaigeThey call me rebel And the cigarette slides between my lips as I tell them to f**k off I am no rebel I am a victim Of a lost rebellion The brandy burns my throat As I wash away the dark blue midnight Of a revolution Gone with the ashes Stamped out with the remains Of that s**t we rolled earlier And the bass line rolls on Humming in my ear “F**k the man,” someone strums “It’s his world,” the guitar whimpers back, “F**k us, f**k the rebels.” But I’m on my second cigarette now I am no rebel Purple clouds paint the dusk And white smoke paints bloodshot eyes I try to stand but my head spins And everything is white So instead I lay Arms outstretched Clutching the country grass And they all follow And we form a star of sweat stained bodies That smell like smoke and booze And look like s**t And we stare up at the other stars Way up there Past the clouds And we are nothing I am a victim Of the universe And of its stars And I am a victim of that s**t we rolled That keeps me dizzy And tells me lies I am a victim of monotonous hums And the people who strum them I am a victim of the dark blue midnight And I am a rebel against it all © 2011 Hannah PaigeFeatured Review
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StatsAuthorHannah PaigePAAboutI'm in film school at NYU. I like to write and make movies. I took some good music and put it here: http://8tracks.com/hannah-paige more..Writing
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