The sun unveils the secret myriad
through rain splashed windows
A thousand rainbows on the train
Stare back at me in droplets
...
Peace the absence of War
The presence of justice
Freedom delivered on a B52
War the tool for Peace
...
Deficient of kindness
Tis a cold, indifferent world
Where seldom does love
Walk in order to sense
...
Murmured voices from another room
Hushed in traditional reverence
Mourning in silence the English way
Awkward conversations of time lost
...
The ashes of broken dreams
Witnesses fires of the heart
Fade in grey and cold
What once was, slips away
...
He had made a thousand, thousand
This one is just the same
Nothing special, nothing grand
Same skill, same tools, same aim
...
On passing the junkyard
I saw the dreams of yesterday
what once was a prize
Lies rusting now
...
Woe to the brown rice priests
Indifferent of so much pain
Locked in detached materialism
Pride and career your only gain
...
On a wet Sunday afternoon
I visit you for the second time
A mere forty-five years later
Have you lost weight?
...