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phocksPoems
These four walls Familiar yet new Close in Expand out Industry calls Preys upon dreams Sets its goals Upon those who crave The glory days Built up from birth They permeate all forms Of things that touch The human heart The human mind The human soul They serve themselves Before all They serve themselves There they stand Like new again In the mind Think tank back Spots on the map Where we've been What we've seen Who we are Refects upon today Looks the other way Ghosts of the past They haunt the ground And alter the course Of travelling sound Those that rise above Seem somehow to know That they are the ones Needed in the plows That grow the fields Of wicked wheat And then there are Those that are unknown Here as nothing There as something Also an expance of futures Calling and drawing In all directions And for all reasons They can't get enough And you push some aside Only to have them More overtly contrive A decent explanation For what they provide Soon they say We will be And it is believed But the truth is alive In what we perceive The outcome of which Is nothing without The garden We grow Go
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Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 6:37 PM UTC
Of Places New, Places Past, & Places Future Come
These four walls Familiar yet new Close in Expand out Industry calls Preys upon dreams Sets its goals Upon those who crave The glory days Built up from birth They permeate all forms Of things that touch The human heart The human mind The human soul They serve themselves Before all They serve themselves There they stand Like new again In the mind Think tank back Spots on the map Where we've been What we've seen Who we are Refects upon today Looks the other way Ghosts of the past They haunt the ground And alter the course Of travelling sound Those that rise above Seem somehow to know That they are the ones Needed in the plows That grow the fields Of wicked wheat And then there are Those that are unknown Here as nothing There as something Also an expance of futures Calling and drawing In all directions And for all reasons They can't get enough And you push some aside Only to have them More overtly contrive A decent explanation For what they provide Soon they say We will be And it is believed But the truth is alive In what we perceive The outcome of which Is nothing without The garden We grow Go
phocks
Written by
phocks
Australian
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 6:37 PM UTC
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