A collision of weight and a collection of
thoughts.
Out of the rubble, through the wreckage, we can see the
miracle of
re-birth.
The fakes the finks the squirrels and minks; the wars for
oil,
the fighting over
soil.
The commotion that fills the ocean, missiles flying sit
stagnant.
There are no horsemen in this place, this time, or this
feeling.
We did the best we could;
things that we did.
Even if it was a half assed
effort.
That place is everything it’s cracked up to be.
I would love to take you
THERE.
No comments:
Post a Comment