From birth until death we ply our trade
pulling anger and frustration to enslave,
save our fixation on the withering winters grave...
where we buried summer
and found our calloused hands warming on a fire
we spent hours forming in history’s funeral pyre.

If we could see above the suffering
and the internet buffering
if we could hold eternity in our hearts
and not let it get torn apart

we would see beyond the frogs well
and believe in heaven and not in hell

There are thousands of people,
Looking for love on the internet today,
I’ve never seen the odds, how many find happiness,
Compared to those who just waste, many months away,

No one has A decision date, listed, the year, and time,
There is always, one more to look at,
Like A child in A candy store line.
So many flavors, to choose from,
It puts confusion, in your mind.

So many, personals, the list should get shorter, every day,
Everyone should be dating, each other,
Just to go out, learn more about life, different ways,
Does looking at pictures, become a habit,
Never noticing years, of life, can be wasted away.

                                                          ­                                                         
                Tom Maxwell © 3/17/2021  10:00pm

-x-


You heard the man
He was telling a lie
But it felt harmless;
so you had let it fly


Into the web
of nameless, faceless arachnids
who chewed it up
and spewed out in typeset


With no recourse,
it spread across the threads
As they kept on spinning
their yarn of hate


It grew with ancient tales
of temples broken, villages burned
And threats of history repeating itself
unless all debate was adjourned


Till a house of cards it was no more -
but a fortress you couldn't move
For you had by then forgotten
what used to be the truth


-x-