Posts
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To become a monster
In the midnight meadow
where the wicked things play
is where my heart seems to want to stay
In the evil darkness
where the wild ones rome
is where I feel quite at home
monsters
lurking -
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A poem in the rain (the most poetic weather)
The most poetic weather
is the rain pouring on my face.
It will chase
the sun away
and that is quite okay.
The words to a poem
come spilling out
like the rain is spilling down.
The insignificance of the wilting sun -
Hope wander
Never let hope wander
Reach out and grasp it
it flys away
is it over yonder?
or have you already moved past it?
but I will always find this hope
this hope I will always find
for this hope
this hope is mine -
Please get vaccinated
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For the thing that makes me free
thank you
a painful jab
for a life outside of isolation
thanks to walking outside with a friend
for I hope COVID will come to a quick end -
Change
When will things change
when will they change
when will we change
when will I change
when will the world change
when will you change
when will change come?
