The gladness or sadness of a poem,

Dirty,21st century clad,A pool of idiots screaming,Wolf!But acting like swine,And We?Pickles in brine,With no crunch left,Cowards!Drowning in vinegar and salt,As insults fly,As Dreams and Country die,Need we ask, Why?

As deep as the deepest abyss,As beautiful as a new born rose,That doesn’t even know why it grows,As selfishly mine as it is yours,So alive, It will never close…..

All my life,That smileI never had’SaidThe frustrated,LoverAs clouds beganTo gather,And dreamsNo longer swamIn the lakesOf hidden passions.All had diedIn one last sighAs NightGave Life’s door,A great big slam!Without, compassion.

There, even the stonesSing in monotone,All is but the same,Only change, a name,Life a Mystery,See what you may see,Nothing, perfectly.

About All of Us,Including myselfAnd I sufferBecause of havingBeen told,That ‘once upon a time’There were other creaturesThat roamed,Distant landsAnd were called‘Saints’While now we’re allRed angry devils,Hiding, our war paint.

Not losing sight,Of the Truth,Wishing that one dayMinds will have progressed enough,To know how to act,And what to chose,Remembering that Hope,Should always be,The last thing we lose.