It ain’t over, ever for me…the lines keep comin’ and my heart, it bleeds me in every word and line, all in the beat, rhythm and rhyme.
Guns play in fields of hope, like swing sets begging to be heard, and pop out bullets to argue for existence. And the world wonders what’s happening…
Time waits for no man or woman, it moves on through ups and downs and tribulations, but in the midst of all the pain is an insurmountable amount of hope. If you catch a small glimmer of hope, you can catch the last ride to your dreams.
It’s a long painful history that continues to repeat itself. The greatest thing we can do as a human population is to finally break the chains that our minds have been tightened with; release our intellect to combat the immoral and unethical need to submit one’s self to anyone or any ideal.
In the conquering of the unconquerable guilt for desiring the best life.
A poem about the highs and lows of pursuing a dream and passion to the end.
I ascended toward the heavens, I met many along the way, each of which carried a sword, and all began carving the Greek meaning of my name – the gentle.
Rain pounding, flooding, fists locked on my window cage, tree outside, leading to heaven, sweet retreat from pain, more memories of watching it gather at the opening, it watered…
The blue bird came out of its cage to sing a melody of love, and the song made the room remember its silence as the dried flowers of time began to age.
I don’t know how to help the man in a hurry to shop for his holiday gifts, but I hope this article inspires at least one of you to recognize what is valuable – life.