From the worm to the mammoth,
The species have traveled,
From ameba, to us,
The most mysterious
And the one,
That most makes, a fuss.
ooooooooo
last dance
ll
O
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Today,
I can’t seem to write,Force is not might,For you can’t force feelings,And you can’t pretend height,If you are not feeling, the right inspiration,No matter what your poetic inclination,That day or that night,Poor little birdie-poetYou most certainly won’t,Be able to write.
If all good things come to an end,
Seems like bad things just renew.
Our search for beauty.
Today the Times, turbulent Sky,Look down, not up,And dirt you’ll see,The World turned in Catastrophe!Twenty First Century, Tragedy! !
Looking for the Truth
The desert’s not a good placeTo look for fertile land…
Volatility,
Try to predict,Future’s Sky,Look at the clouds,Feel the wind,Ask somebodyHow to win.But no matter,What you do,Nor how hard you try!Predicting the FutureIs an impossible lie.
Searching for answers,
In one infinite Ocean rhyme,Called Poetry.Finding only,Empty shells,By the SeaNothing gained,Nada,After so many years,I can’t even cry,My questionable, tears.