poetry
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Succulent you are With your red fruits Deep is the green From which your leaves gleam Sharp are the spikes At the points of your leaves You are such a beautiful evergreen. You are Holly without the ivy Yet you still draw me in Even though we are nearing The end of this winter thing…
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Children dying in chemical gas attacks how much humanity must these people lack, to commit such a barbarous crime do these deaths no even play on their minds. Do they not see the bodies on the streets do they not see the people weep, do not all sides see the games the play has left…
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We grasp for materialistic things like it will bring us happiness but all we ever find in this, is shallow unfulfilled emptiness. There is no joy to be found in aggrandizing your life, in an attempt to feel achievement because it’s only ever a temporary fix, before it becomes old and meaningless. There is more joy…
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Why is it, that in this world in which we live, it seems just to love is too much to expect and peace is just a fanciful notion best left in dreams.
fauxcroft 