Even the coldest of hearts can burn.
Written: April 28, 2018
All rights reserved.
she sees the world
through poetic colored glasses
that add depth to everything she sees
slow falling snow
eight letter phrases
two roads in a yellow wood
the meaning of life itself
never sure if things
are closer or further than they appear
and what’s delusion...
i feel deeper than anyone
i have ever met
it’s hard to know if i’m sane
Low hanging clouds dark as plums
rain drops patter on the tops of umbrellas
black umbrellas dark as sorrow
hiding faces in their shadow
does anyone know
a tag on the toe
of the corpse john doe?
Hidden people in plain sight
who will help their suffering plight?
Could it be you, with the myopic view?
What did you say, you're just an ordinary fella,
hiding your face beneath a ******* umbrella.
Some of them were strangers
Some of them were without any rule
None of them would see another tomorrow
And if the innocent are guilty
Of the crimes they are harboring within
Then what are the chances in the hands of the convicted
There in the tiredness of what resignation brings
In the rejection of your everything
When the dawn draws close with no exceptions
Some of them were crying
Some of them stood brave
In the end it just didn't matter . . .
All of their dreams came tumbling down
All of their love soon would expire
And the void in the midst of the distance left not a sound
As the earth swallowed all that mattered
It covered all of their future faults
Leaving the fresh dirt of new direction
Some of them were young
Some of them were old
Some of them were men and the others were women
Sone of them were just in the wrong location
Maybe they had the wrong face of denial
Just maybe in memory they will not be forgotten
For being guilty of being innocent
As the quiet overtakes and the day moves into the night, my spirit longs for something that's right.
Something that gives me the way out of being continually torn.
And as the light pierces the darkness in the early morn, there is release for my broken heart, to take a new form.
Healing the breach and creating a bridge to living in an hour when everything seems to drive one to the edge.
Giving me the strength to walk without fear, knowing there is a purpose, and it's time to draw near.
Faith we are told is line upon line...sometimes the lines get blurred and sometimes they seem very disconnected. Faith of a mustard seed is all one needs.