Something is going on in America right now that defies description, even by a poet.
We love ourselves too often and need reach out much more often. It is a social responsibility and it effects the environment also.
Twisters.
For the maybe
There are three hours
With full support
Padding from pads
To the room
With all the ravers
The baloons
Hold them good
Give to the humans
Free the baboons.
There are three hours
With full support
Padding from pads
To the room
With all the ravers
The baloons
Hold them good
Give to the humans
Free the baboons.
Sad poem.
Not a place of dreams
Everyone is dealt a bad hand
The demons get to laugh
The angels cry
Not a place of dreams
We put on our smiles
And hide our scowling screams
As a boomerang bangs
Not a place for dreams
Power doesn't mean anything now
Just a bowl of rotten schemes
And roses get danced upon
Not a place of dreams
Fear is open for business.
Everyone is dealt a bad hand
The demons get to laugh
The angels cry
Not a place of dreams
We put on our smiles
And hide our scowling screams
As a boomerang bangs
Not a place for dreams
Power doesn't mean anything now
Just a bowl of rotten schemes
And roses get danced upon
Not a place of dreams
Fear is open for business.
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