Poems from Zombieale

I'm high in the skyFloating up like a featherDown is not a choice  
Handsare used as toolsto create beautyor to fix Handsare also weaponsthey are destructionand of pain HandsYou choosewhat to use them for...
There are memories that I wish would fade,Memories that to this day, I'm still afraid.They give you the talk and expect you to know,And...