Paul Latham Poems
|1.||Thought Of The Day||1/22/2008|
|2.||Who Are We? Me.||1/22/2008|
|4.||A Product Of State Manufacturing||1/23/2008|
|5.||Sitting At Work||1/25/2008|
|6.||Ode To Mankind||1/27/2008|
|8.||Sunday Evening Blues||3/3/2008|
|10.||Just Ants On The Road||4/10/2008|
|11.||Rain, Sun, Summer||4/11/2008|
|12.||A Poet Wishing, Watching, Waiting||4/14/2008|
|15.||Me And Us All.||1/22/2008|
Your life in dreams, such a funny thing,
It might be great or totally fake,
Bizarre, surreal, leave you in a state.
From Africa to Rome, then suddenly home.
Your dreams or nightmares seen.
Time that stops, legs dropping off,
Unable to move, as danger looms.
Chasing a fantasy that maybe you fancy,
A change from the norm as you dream up a storm.
Dreams where you’re flustered and scared.
Changing time as moments pass by,
Places rising from the depths of your thoughts.
You wake, and reality breaks, like a stone thrown, on a frozen ...
We work to live a life that’s free,
But free for who? We just don’t see.
Freedom to work and slave away, freedom oppression are here to stay.
The meaning of freedom has disappeared.
Control and Order of the masses we hear,
But who controls our life for free?
Money, Greed, the weed of our kings.
Kings and Queens, they spread this disease, to company exec’s, it’s all there to see.
We just accept to live a lie, and my freedom apparent doesn’t seem to suffice.