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Posted: Thu Mar 04, 2010 10:23 pm
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Posted: Thu Mar 04, 2010 10:25 pm
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Posted: Thu Mar 04, 2010 10:26 pm
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Posted: Thu Mar 04, 2010 10:27 pm
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Things that no one seems to hear Whisper softly to my ear Finding me in the dawn-lit hour While someone else would contemplate a shower
The thoughts of all the outcasts here Around the world and many like deer That sing the same old quiet tune That probably was once written in rune
The quiet ones, the warrior warners The silent could-be mourners Somehow they’ve been silenced Forced to bear witness to our violence
Have you counted up their tears? There’s just as many as their fears For every fear you hide at heart You can be sure one of them shares it in part
The power the human being craves Has forced so many to turn to wraiths But these are the few, the pure Perhaps they hold our forgotten cure?
Not many see something quite like this No, their too busy pondering a kiss But when you see through open eyes The guardian angel beside you flies
But by seeing in this new perspective You risk become quite the skeptic Can the human race be good? Well, they all know that they should
So now we come to a large conclusion That you can see truth or illusion But either way, the outcome’s grim Because we all stand on this same rim
The world changes as we speak Perhaps there will be a good change this week But now look at all the sad The miserable, the musty, and the bad
Are these people that we think of? Because we see to be thinking of the rough Gritty, gross, grotesque and grimy Smelly, sulfurous, and slimy
These words more accurately describe Something that we refuse to inscribe The human soul, that mythical thing The one people forget to bring
Can this world continue on? When all we care for is tonight’s filet mignon Save us! Save us! Someone please! That’s what we cry, we might as well be fleas
Annoying, selfish, leaching slugs That’s what we’ve become, simple rugs And yet there were those silent few Who watched the morning collect its dew
Untitled Poem
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Posted: Thu Mar 04, 2010 11:15 pm
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