Author Information
Tree of The Lost
My tears of silence fall now to the floor, for the lost souls who are lost and cannot find the door.
The safety within the mind of purity,
escape from this crucial catastrophic anatomy,
They lost their way, how can this be, family tree dissipating.
The consultation, of what was and what will now be..
A Microcosm
Pick a family member. Any one will suffice.
In their eyes the wild quest for adventure and love
and wealth and fame, if in their stars.
Here, sits he who has done little but eat
and sleep and cry. He will probably best us all.
There, a flower, a blossom of smiles and a rage
of anger ranges and authority - a bunch of mixed
outlooks evolving. And so the world is found
in the searching eyes of clewless nephews
and happy in spite of tragedy nieces. Death
walks among us and picks us like basketball
all stars. These are not too special, these
persons of a bit of interest., but they are all
of us in small - a mirror. Meet one, believe
their counterparts are thriving all over
earth in equally beguilin niches.
.
allets
08-14-17
1005a
.
Wow.
Yes, this is a reality we must face. Anything having within the infinite finite of what can be thought.
The unknown, the neverending paradox.
What should be done is known by uniting as one.
None better than the other one.
Equality.
Thank you for the reply.
-Regards,
Brian C.
Brian Crowell
Young poet, best believe you should know it.