My Words are like Petals on the Wind

When will you reach out and touch my soul,
And hold my hand.
all I get is
Cold winds.
Where are you my friend..
Time stands still,
I have something to say
But
Like petals on the wind
I see
My words float away
.

Welcome to the new age .
Where your new god is your T.V.
Like mindless blobs
You sit
Transformed
Mezmerize
Hypnotized
Fixed on the  Misery of others
As its
Teaching our young to hate.
     Kneel down
Give praise to your new god
The TV.
as the news spreads hate and fear.
It's all washed in lies.
Come people stand in line .
It's black Friday
As you punch and trample over
Your mother  
For the low price
On your god the TV
Your kids are brain washed
Taught to hate
Hypnotized
And taught to live in fear.
Your God in an instant spreads lies to the masses.
As you sit Hypnotize
mesmerize
Listing to lies.

People turn off your god
get up off your sofa and go out side
There's a beautiful world out there
Full of amazement and wonder
Listin to the river flowing
The birds singing
Smell the roses
In the soft wind blowing
Listing to the Laughter of the kids playing.
Remember when this was you.
Laughing.
Turn off your TV
Go out side
Be amazed
It's a
Beautiful world just
Open your eyes
Love cost nothing
And hurts no one.
Turn off your
Tv.

I'm alone in a world I don't understand.
As
Politicians line their pockets with the graves of our young women and men.
When will it all
end
My brother a  
Marine lies in a grave
As the rain washes it away
Just a number
Another body
For the politicians to line their pockets with.

A simple fact.

not one remembers
His name.

Another years passed
and nothing has changed
people killing people and no one finds this strange.
What have we become when our kids fear their protectors.
It's no longer
A  Circle of life but
A circle of death
Over and over again.
It's
The same old thing
We hide in our homes
Behind  Our television sets
Propaganda pasted across our
LED
screens.
Another year has passed
As hate breeds hate
as our children  Silently scream.
Our lives go on
Without a  Purpose Or any direction.
We are quick to point the finger
But who's really too
Blame
If we sit silent and let it happen.

Marvelous
A beauty to  Be had
His body with its chiseled curves His large hands
As I gazed upon him
I noticed his perfect form
And his very chiseled abs
Not a blemish to be had
As I touched his pale white body
So smooth
Almost soft to be exact
His hair so full and curls
A plenty
Who is this beautiful man
With perfect form
A work of art to be adored
Timeless in his form.
His name is
David.
By  Michael Angelo.