hands in pockets
head down
eyes that will never meet yours
a face in the crowd
an existence no one notices
a cry no one hears
perciousness traded for trash
hate found when love is sought
a moment slips
anything to stop the ache
anything to feel alive
a breath is breathed
another one will never be taken
a tradgic tale some say
too much pain in this world
where was the government
If only we had a program
discussion continues
the door stays closed
energy and time is lost
broken jewels
dusty treasures
heaven pleads
see them
love them
3 comments:
A-Girl!! Just found your blog!
David
Alissa, the poem is kind of sad
I was listening to Ben Harper, drinking coffee, and started writing. It is kinda sad though. I almost started crying when I wrote it.
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