MICHAEL VILANOVA Poems

which direction was the hour glass turned last
are the grains counting the future or past
spring or winter summer or autumn
i wonder if the hour glass is facing top or bottom
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hello lord i got you a question
expecting a answer without hesitation
longing to know when can i speak to you
lord is praying only for the true
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Rough edges rotten from decay
Events of things just wasting away
Shameless Proof of man's waste
Storms and no time to hesitate
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Thinking to myself what he has done
Has he passed in front of everyone
Even if it's just one extra place in line
Considering in telling him that spot is mine
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thirteen stripes flying high in the sky
hear them whipping in the wind
i wonder why they make grown men cry
roaring winds cant even make thier colors blend
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Bright and varies colors
Unique to no other
Transformed to new creature
Totally amazing features
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So i don't have fancy threads
Or nor i m well book read
Don't have the latest speeding car
That can take me here and far
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Its daring to live alone
This health studies have shown
Risk of dying a earlier death
No one to say goodbye as you take last breathe
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A quiet house can be very creepy
No one there to hear you weeping
To hear your life's story
Of its pain and glory
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Plant your own flowers
And watch them grow
One single precious seed
Is all you really need
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