If the death of a loved one, is a sign of the times,
Then it is a terrible time indeed.
Something that once had vibrance,
Something that once provided life,
Is now simpering below my ankles.
It is stepped on by ignorant, waddling children,
And ignored by it's own murderer's.
It's blossoms of radiance,
Lie dead beneath my bloodied feet.
It is surely a sign of the times,
To see our destructive hands reach out to the life,
That cannot defend it's own purity.
took a deep breath, and blew
took a deep breath, and blew it out forcefully... wow its serious, and seems to me angry... i also hope things are better for you but i must admit i have a whole lot of that in me lol.. oh well good writing.. God bless
lee
Your Poetry
tells stories, your stories are poetic - the reader has to think it over which is nice for a change - well pennned poet! ~~A~~