This is strange thing I though of all of the sudden.
Artificial feelings dictate the life.
Biohazards pollute the night.
Men are raised into scorn.
Women are tricked for more.
Skies grow pale red.
Nobody keeps baby fed.
Trees fall into a blaze.
Activists are in a craze.
Days are paler than ever.
We’ll preach for always and never.
Nobody understands what we say.
What is this thing we call okay?
Is it security?
Is it only a lie?
Can we really live,
in a world without a truth?
This is a question from a man of truth.
This entry was posted on March 30, 2008 at 11:43 pm and is filed under Poetry.You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
A Man of Truth
This is strange thing I though of all of the sudden.
Artificial feelings dictate the life.
Biohazards pollute the night.
Men are raised into scorn.
Women are tricked for more.
Skies grow pale red.
Nobody keeps baby fed.
Trees fall into a blaze.
Activists are in a craze.
Days are paler than ever.
We’ll preach for always and never.
Nobody understands what we say.
What is this thing we call okay?
Is it security?
Is it only a lie?
Can we really live,
in a world without a truth?
This is a question from a man of truth.
~ by shawnself on March 30, 2008.
Posted in Poetry
Tags: Comment, Commentary, Poetry, Truth, World