by Arcassin Burnham

peace out to the fellas, peace out to the ladies,
that think life might be crazy,
while carrying dreams under wings in a life so
unseen but their ways that they claim to portray
in their own grief,
angels sing so loudly to commute these events weather if
you're a sinner or just praying,
I'm just saying,
you don't have to gravitate or give in to the
words that I'm saying,
seeing the era of my ways would motivate,
but you're just playing, yourself,
bring my peace to the table , allow you to snack,
but it got cold , and your excuses for dying
got tired and old, you must enjoy that,
but things get gone,
friendships break up,
family isolates,
and you're all alone,
heading back to square one.

when your lucks run out,
everything gets cold,
promises broken,
and so is the mold,
heading back to square one.


©abpoetry2020