Our lives hang,
From one thread,
Spider web, thin.
And yet we go on,
Groping in the dark,
Of our useless existence,
Like Autumn Leaves
Waiting to Fall.
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Some of us,
Hoping, soOur poetic idealismWill come true,But it never does,Does it?Even, LoveSometimes,Escapes us, too.
Most people are not affectionate,
It hurts to see,How cold and unstimulating,Most of ‘inhumanity’ can be.
It All goes back to the Greeks,
Beauty, love, philosophy, the gods.What did they not invent?Amazing group of sea-faring Isles,That gave the world so much,To love and idealize.
Strange,
Different tastes,MannerismsTime to wasteIndividualisms,I supposeIt’s all part ofThe behavioralPattern,Of the human race.We are all,So differentIn so many waysThink of itAnd practice,Understanding,ToleranceFor others’ views,As long as not harmfulPractice kindness,Not terror’sInfractionsBring about peaceNot destructive,DissatisfactionAnd above, be goodTo one another,Please,Don’t hurt each other.
I hate for innocent people
Or be falsely accusedBe persecuted by others,And Forced into servitude.There is enough human tragedyWithout causing more,I did forget to mentionWhat I hate most of allIs War!Destructive and detrimentalNot what we were put here forWill we ever come togetherIn love and peaceful song,Will we ever stop doingWhat is so sinful,So inhumanly, bad and wrong?
Have you ever thought white paper,
That have given up their being,So that great books can be written,Many readers, teach and please.We should all be grateful Always,To the trees that gave their life.So that writers from all nations,Could keep culture’s light alive,Making books such an important,Part of History and our lives.