Grow Sunflowers Into The Sky Poem by Madrason .

It's just rimpling,
pimpling on the surface,
no storm, no danger
only grays beget the days,
find ways to make
all seem slower,
its the grower
in your head
that makes you dumb,
numb and sad
and it's true
that snipers do
crawl into you
like vipers,
grow sunflowers
into the sky,
-yesterday
you would have
asked why
they weren't there
before-
then you take
a nipple more
and break
heavens door
-you know damn well-
down into hell.