We love ourselves too often and need reach out much more often. It is a social responsibility and it effects the environment also.
Goodbye wasted once was, some time ago, I lost you in a storm, you fell and my head hurt, I wandered down an empty road, no signs of life, no signs at all, I left you then when I turned up the hill, to the cold and fog that burned, there was a survival time for a crazy world, and below manic subdued, buses every minute, and the horror of constant advertizement, the shadows between the homes and the yards, then a nursery for plants, it was like nothing else.
Men on the edge of breaking down, breaking out the guns, outside the door the beach roars, the bloody waves mock life, soldiers tossed like toys, justice crying, the statues left of the dead, our heart solid, hands ready, the fight to turn the waves around, to change history, as our enemy would have done.
Unfortunatly this is war. This is death and destruction, bodies strewn about covered in their own bloody intestines, parents butchered by shelling clutching their beloved child, this is war, buildings of beauty ripped to pieces by missles, this is the darkness of envy, man's perverse interest in displays of strength, to be fearless and wanton, this is the horror of soot and screams and sirens. The romance of it is delusion, often hiding the faces of cowards, I can not forgive the crimes of deported children, or anything so vile and disgusting. May this war end, and may we have the strength, wits, and teamwork to make it so.
Over years of blogger I have found that people want to know more about the hands on the key board. I have a scar on my left hand, but I love it. My nails are in great shape and condition and deserve more publicity. Most of all I still have a muscle for my pen use. I can feel. My hands like to feel thinks including a soft stuffed animal thing. If I could they would reach out to you and shake both your hands, because deep down I like people.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
