Just read and learn.
TV-MA
A touch of your skin softly chills of desire flow.
A memory of love trust and who knows.
Awake only to dry up parched and out of breath.
Dreams of external control immersed a test.
Dreams of pure and simple needed rest.
Alone in a time of untrust,
and paranoid minds.
Future not so sure,
with so much destruction to view.
A time of killing,
but sometimes we just have to.
A hope for peace,
yet realistic and not blind.
These masks of bravado they wear,
are mere glass shields.
A thin tribute to the life lost,
for freedom they defend...
So touching are their pretty words of hope,
with time revealing all they have hidden.
The they are there,
in and around,
a paranoids dillusional disturbed agenda.
A smell soft in scent drifting through the air.
A thought of desire,
a memory of repair.
Events forsaken,
by the rat race we live in.
No glance at the news,
no amazement at what they give.
Dreams of yesterday dwell,
deep in the depths of today.
Dreams are a reminder,
that your mind has had to play.
Future is what you make of it,
with patience and pain.
A time to live is a way to survive,
until all else has faded away.
So hollow are their pretty words of trust.
The they are among us.
Give rise to the closed and one track mind.
Take a look around and see.
The time is at hand to believe.
A better tomorrow is to proceed.
A peace of love for you but not me.
by allmax
Poetry by Allmax
Read 660 times
Written on 2005-12-11 at 20:11
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A Smell Soft
" A Smell Soft "TV-MA
A touch of your skin softly chills of desire flow.
A memory of love trust and who knows.
Awake only to dry up parched and out of breath.
Dreams of external control immersed a test.
Dreams of pure and simple needed rest.
Alone in a time of untrust,
and paranoid minds.
Future not so sure,
with so much destruction to view.
A time of killing,
but sometimes we just have to.
A hope for peace,
yet realistic and not blind.
These masks of bravado they wear,
are mere glass shields.
A thin tribute to the life lost,
for freedom they defend...
So touching are their pretty words of hope,
with time revealing all they have hidden.
The they are there,
in and around,
a paranoids dillusional disturbed agenda.
A smell soft in scent drifting through the air.
A thought of desire,
a memory of repair.
Events forsaken,
by the rat race we live in.
No glance at the news,
no amazement at what they give.
Dreams of yesterday dwell,
deep in the depths of today.
Dreams are a reminder,
that your mind has had to play.
Future is what you make of it,
with patience and pain.
A time to live is a way to survive,
until all else has faded away.
So hollow are their pretty words of trust.
The they are among us.
Give rise to the closed and one track mind.
Take a look around and see.
The time is at hand to believe.
A better tomorrow is to proceed.
A peace of love for you but not me.
by allmax
Poetry by Allmax
Read 660 times
Written on 2005-12-11 at 20:11
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
