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 Jan 2017 Max Vale
Traveler
WARNING
 Jan 2017 Max Vale
Traveler
Careful

You are about to read
Very dangerous words

Push continue
At your own risk

Evil people live among us
Wickedness is everywhere
Death is inevitable
Life isn't always fair

But the real danger
Is the breach of trust
Buy a friend or by
Someone you love

So you best beware
Of the danger of trust
When the chains that bind us
Start to rust

When the mask of safety
Shatters into lies
Oh how dangerously
We trusted the people
In our lives
...
Traveler Tim
 Jan 2017 Max Vale
Ovi-Odiete
THE POETRY SERIES

It is the poetry of little things that causes the earth to shred and shudder
The poetry of little things that ignites the greatest moments of bliss.
A smile from a little child,
A chuckle from a stranger.
The warmth of a knitted family
The entwining of old friends
The humming from the sea shores
The journey of the moonlight
The waves, the traveling waves
The Sea, the meandering sea
The Earth, the boundless earth
And the sweet song that nature sings.
These little things, garnered with the greatest love
Observed in silence
It is this poetry,
The poetry of little things that elicit the greatest happiness


Ovi Odiete© All right reserved
The poetry of little things..

Thank you all for the hearts and comments for this little poem of mine being picked as my SECOND DAILY
I can't thank you enough
May your rough road be smooth
My biggest lie,
Is my image at work.
An industrious being.
A diligent soul.

I shower my hours,
Like sprinkles on candy.
To an office that shuts,
Its doors on my feet.

The brainwashed child,
Of the lazy generation,
We're expected to overcompensate,
For their misbehaven.  

The life we live,
For a plaque and a desk,
The **** we take,
For a life of unrest.

They sell us dreams,
We can't afford,
Then make us slaves,
To free our souls.

The man is evil,
An awful beast.
He tells you how to live,
So buy us to break free.

The world is polluted,
There is no respite.
Every passion bought,
Every dream's got a price.

So punch those keys,
And get back to work.
Let's be frank,
It's the devil's world.
 Jan 2017 Max Vale
bones
Somebody bundled
it into a clock
and slung it up high on a wall,

with numbers
like bars between us,
where there had been nothing before;

before,
my days had come open,
open and endless like sky,

but boxed on the wall
there looked no room for all
of the rest of my lifetime and I.
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