so-
A    mb-
        re,
       Sw-
       a-
      n's,
    cu-
    rl-
ing,
ne-                Rarely,
ck. takes, the time, to, longingly,
straighten out. If, it, took, a honking
step, toward; a banal, straight line. Wo-
uld, Lir, hear, his children's; swansong?
Or, pinion feathers, flip, on breezes, as,
              they,
                  flap, about?

© poormansdreams

They come from the West,
Covered in ashes,
Suit cases of soot.

They call them Californians,
Nomads from the west coast.
They come from burning cities,
On bare foot.

They've got stone faces,
Hardened gazes.
I can't imagine how it must be,
To have your home,
Burned from gables,
To ground.

God bless the Californians,
Lot of lost souls from the West Coast.

My city is in ruins
Flames have taken it down
But that doesn’t mean we are over and out
We shall come together
With determination
In unity
For we are survivors
Bound to succeed
Love and friendship are the foundation
It will take time
As we overcome frustration
But we’ve got each other
We’ll make it right
Someday we’ll look back at this
Give thanks we made it through
By hard work will come bliss
We’ll do it together
It will be all right
Hope and courage are here
It’s worth the fight

I could never be a lawyer,
Not because I couldn't lie.
I can lie plenty,
Whether or not it's right.

But I couldn't stand to see,
When an innocent victim.
Gets blamed,
And there was nothing I could do,
Because the judge can't see.