IT gathers itself in one
spot, burns with all its
might, then falls to the
ground and disapates,
and yells, im done.
IT stands on four feet,
wears a flag, and spends
its time making maps of
you, me, and everyone eles.
ITS here, its every where,
still, with out us its nothing
but a smear.
IT moans and fucks about,
then shuts up, for its out of
gas.
DAVID GERARDINO
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/windows-and-doors/