Solace. - Poem by Daniel Bates
It's funny how some of our misery
Is caused by man made impurity:
Like money debt and promescuity.
Man made constructs
And we may be
The architects of our own ambiguity.
We are creators of fear and insecurity,
But the only sufferers are you and me.
It's funny when you look
And curious to see
Us, architects of ambiguity.
Worry not of such material things,
Like 'nation' and 'dollar' and territory.
For these are our conceptions
And not who you'll be
When we come to leave humanity.
Comments about Solace. by Daniel Bates
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You