Biography of Christopher Cariad
I’m a poet, My muse is this crazy world. Watch me as I wither away, Watch me as I leave tiny little little speckles of light though out the green pastures, through out the brazen desserts, Inside the broken homes of the abused, On the book shelves of the great wealth, On the minds of man.
Christopher Cariad's Works:
The Bleeding Hearts Cry: A Collection of Poetry By Chris Cariad
Available via amazon.com and shop.cariadtoday.com
The Dawning Light: a collection of poems By Chris Cariad
Available on amazon.com and cariadtoday.com
Christopher Cariad Poems
Dance To The Music
Dance to the music under the stars at night. Dance to the music of all time lullabies.
We've always wanted what we couldn't have. But will happiness be found in these things That will never be ours? I find that happiness lyes
A Soulful Goodbye
Just a silhouette of your soul I hold. That kiss was so passionate,
A Fallen Branch From The Great Tree Of L...
You say you care But do you really? When the best you can do Is not good enough.
The Power Of Power
The power was in their hands, and they got to decide, the actions to guide humanity. Many trying to influence that decision,
Tragedies Of An Unsung Hero
The wars we fight Are not our own. The lives lost In useless war
Raindrops are falling as the sky goes blue, I lay here waiting for this beloved you. The person I once loved so dearly and true, The love we once held extended beyond the moon.
Racing For The Finish Line
Accomplishment is what we strive for, To reach a goal And breathe success. To be the best at our craft
Your Passion for money Leaves you in a bed of greed, Taking away all hopes to succeed. Love is the ultimate key
Powerless Drug Life
Locked in by this wall Of addiction and hurt, Powerless to break free From this comforting medicated life.
Shepherd And The Sheep
You're my shepherd And I'm the sheep. Your all knowing
The Silk Rose
I look into your eyes And see the beating of your heart. You're the one I knew right from the start. Your perfection underlines my lack there of.
I want to be like those pioneers That traveled west. I want to suffer and thrive From my hands alone.
The Sand House: Part 2
I stretch my eyes through the musky air, Seeing nothing but the sand's hair Rising and falling In the fluent breeze.
My dreams of a better tomorrow, push me to live.
People in pain, we see them everyday.
We stand there in wonder of what has happened
Why has this generation seen the same
As those from our past.
Why do we continuously toss these dreams
Of ending hunger and pain, wars and hate, homelessness and separation
Aside like they never really mattered,
Just to pursue our wants of popularity, fame, and riches.