Nothing implies,
I write to feel alive.

Every day,
I walk by,
Imagination flies.

In the twinkling of an eye,
Seize it,
and will be mine.

Aren't we humans born to be the carriers of moments ? that turns out to be past or the history which we like to name as memories ,carrying versions of people in our minds that we remember them as one and may be making them time travel so they will be remembered when they are no longer there may be by our side or in existence .
If not then,
why did we born and for what?

Politics. People as huge crowds.
Paper and Pen.
Metaphors and Fights.
Human Rights Debates and Agriculture.
Voting is very politically charged.

*******! There is souls in life.
Google Translate Sings is awesome. People **** because death.
You are all ******* and fuckwads of your own life.
Valid is valid.

How can this be it?
Wasn't there a talk of the promised land?
Where we could all be free,
running across the fabled white sand.

Here I am waiting for the day to come,
The day that will shine so bright.
And from the damp and cold corner,
I will walk into the light.

What if we were to live in a world
          Where nothing had a title
                       How would things be different
                                Would people no longer judge?
                                             Would there be no labels?
                                                          Could we live in this untitled world?

When a soldier marches, where does his focus go?
Forward? To glory or doom?
His mind filled with stories of honour and pride of wars long ago?

Backward? Of the life, they left behind?
To the wife, the child back home?
The medals to be shown as trinkets or to speak never more?

Have they ever stopped to look around? Of the country, to be or not to be? The mountains, the rivers, the towns and to the sea.
The damage to be caused? The life preserved?

Regardless, the solider marches

If it’s a penny for your thoughts
then it’s a bank in my head
where the automated teller
is swiping plastic cards instead