MaxWang

We always remember at the final hour,
time runs by, and soon too late.
Without time, we have no more power.
 
We wait, until the bell rings on the tower,
the clock, slowly, begins to rotate.

With lips red as a rose,
my face pale, like a ghost,
I study, in the mountains, where
bitter frost digs through my skin.
 
I sit, by the window, wondering,
why am I here? To learn,
to find a better life, miles

Under the shade
of an old tree,
I find a place,
to rest, and enjoy.
The tree stands tall,
with leaves green as emerald.
It fills the streets
with fresh air.
I climb onto its branches.
It lets me see,
far, far away.

An egg as white as snow, cracks
as the first sign of spring arises.
I come to this world, different.
 
Feathers as dark as ink, laughed at
by those of my kind, I wander away, 
only to uncover more loneliness.
 

From an age of information to an age of misinformation,
We see our world shatter with deceit.
O’ politicians of our age, why dishonor the truth,
When truth is all we have at the end of democracy?