you and i traveled
for ten years, a decade
of painting purple hearts
on the minds of the willing,
we tried, but we're still killing.
all the love and flowers,
the psychedelic powers,
hours and hours of peaceful
showers, and they still cower,
pulling triggers,
hey, it figures.
peace is real,
just feel.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Emmy, peace is a cosmic state of mind - unfortunately it is unduly influenced by our growing up in an increasingly unstable World. Being at peace with ourselves is about as much as we can hope for... or write for. Rgds, Ivan