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about some people, some feelings just won't let go,
won't matter, just not forgotten, forgetting the evils of
man, horrific terror would hardly be, of some worth to feel,
but it is felt, white washed as unreal, folded and creased to
trash the recycle bin, awaiting the 'morrows of -
Another sunny day,
the while homes are devastated, suns ever survive, fleshless
wings monopolize skies, technology invades life's gift of atmosphere,
to even reach of greater vantage killing heights, back yard feeders are left,
feathered wings, animals are expelled to extinction, matters not to
the grandeurs of some, as luna ticked off humans, become worth less of themselves -
O, say,
do we fail to see, plead with silent prayer, unheard voices,
screams of pain, the depths of which echoes and circles gifted Earth,
where no other world is known be likened of our own warring invaders,
Why then do -
ageless poets cry and be not heard, of feelings that source from inherent,
aberrational dreams, that of victims, falling prey to greed's conquest,
while rockets red glare, and bombs proudly burst of blood and destruction,
is it to reason why, or just to die, score up to mans warring purpose to
compete for that which must be finally relinquished to dust -
* as heaven is left to become -
Hell on Earth
5/31/2006
Louie Levy
| Submitted Date |
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Sunday, October 04, 2009 |
| Submitted Date |
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Wednesday, June 29, 2011 |
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Poets
