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Details | Judgement Poem | |

Devils Deadly Dime

Devils deadly dime

The sign said no grown-up at the playground.
Tripping on a penny, like a mime!
My hand is in my pocket with the dime I found.
Its all mine, I asked for the devils hand that time.
Echoes in my head, bounded by a screaming sound.
Paying for a forgotten crime,
on what comes around goes around.

A prison with greed that carries an evil musical chime.
Jumping off the merry-go-round!
Encouraged by the devil,
 the pleasure of his deadly nursery rhyme. 
Now the world is measured by my blood level.

The devils delight feasted on my youth before I hit my prime.
Bashing my mind, with thoughts implanted by evil.
Entering the day with no beauty to my sublime.
Begging him to remove this anvil!

He laughed while he cursed me with a favor for a favor.
A fallout so violently in this world not civil.
One can only lust on the taste that only he can savor.
Hanging out  by the swings wounding me with prey,
on two victims to his delicious flavor.
I climb my way to teach a lesson in hate not love.
Two siblings who always scream for each other.
Giggling as I offered each a push and a shove.
Stopping they give each other a big hug.
Defeating and proving love is a stronger disease
The devil wicked eyes looking  at me like a bug.
Clawing at my inner guts with remorse that he will win this war.
Until another day one skips the penny, 
and begs a poor fool like the devil for his dime.
Tossing heads for his tail when times hits rock bottom.
I will stray away from his deadly reaction time.
He will not own my soul so freak'em,
and his greedy deadly beg of a dime.


by;pd

Details | Judgement Poem | |

IT IS WHAT IT IS

Sweetheart, you never really fell for me
Head over heels, you loved a fantasy
You had a perfect dream of who I'd be
I liked that guy too.. but it wasn't me
 
It is what it is, It is what it is
It is what it is, It is what it is

You never really.. gave us a chance
More in love with the thought of romance
You turned a blind eye to reality
Girl, I can flat dance but you couldn't see

It is what it is, It is what it is
It is what it is, It is what it is

You walked out the door, I let you go
God knows it hurts to reap what you sow
It's better this way, I only wish you well
But I gotta be me.. even when me means hell 

It is what it is, It is what it is
It is what it is, It is what it is

I've heard it said there's lots of fish in the sea
I gotta believe there's one fish made for me
So I'm sailing today, I'm not waiting around
I can not rest until my true love is found..

Cause,
It is what it is
    just the way it is
It is what it is
    just the way it is

It is what it is
It is what it is

Date: 8-7-14

Details | Judgement Poem | |

Blame Game

You’re so devoted to all your grudges,
You cherish them like they're a prize;
You hold them with pride on your pedestal
Bursting with bliss as your relationships die. 

Next time you frame everyone's mistakes 
And hang them right above their head, 
You should hang up a mirror as well
And take a good look at yourself instead.

You love to play the blame game
So let's play another round-
What's wrong- are you too ashamed
To turn your finger around?

You're so foolish to expect anybody 
To respect a narcissistic point of view;
Within your childish perception the lens
Is solely focused on you, you, you, and you.

Next time you frame everyone’s mistakes 
And hang them right above their head, 
You should hang up a mirror as well
And take a good, long look at yourself instead.

You love to play the blame game
So let's play another round-
What's wrong- are you too ashamed 
To turn your finger around?

Yeah, you love to play the blame game
So let's play another round-
What's wrong- are you too ashamed
To turn your finger around?

By Anne Currin

For Metamorph Contest

Details | Judgement Poem | |

Rules and Regulations

How long did it take her to be free?

How long did it take
For the wingless dragonfly to finally open her heart to the world

How long did it take for her to overcome Devil’s workshop
Slowly caressing her retinas
With silky daffodils and two-faced tulips

Where
Now
She dives into a glistening pool of complicated risk
Opening her atrium to the masses

Shedding incumbent teardrops
Just for that one standing ovation
To SET
HER
FREE!

It was then
Where pieces of plastic chains fell from demure stratosphere

Dented taps, similar to a shoeless dancer,
Setting off bass tones and low-key monotony

For she was
One cholesterol filled syllable short
To be genuine

One tearful, hyphenated lyric
Too blunt
To be embraced by their “god”

One dilapidated vowel shy
Of being honest

Her diary didn’t have enough pages torn
From emerald sanity

There were too many “Wows”,
Diluting into disingenuous shoulder pats

Her stanza pushed aside

A glorified booty call with no call back number
Leaving messages towards empty dial tones

…

How long will it take her to be free?

Until she looks up
Knowing she already holds the key

©Drake J. Eszes

Details | Judgement Poem | |

I Did It My Way

I Did It My Way
I did it my way, not for the applause but because, Failure was not an option and I became a rebel with a cause. I wanted higher education and was told I couldn’t have it all, So I had to prove them wrong even if I had to creep or crawl.
I was accused of having a stubborn streak, Just because I wasn’t mild and meek. Challenging every obstacle placed in my way, And all the negative things that people had to say.
In spite of all the “You can’t do that,” that I was told, I stubbornly did it my way and confidently smashed the mold. Marching to a different drummer and dancing to my own tunes, I kept my eyes on the prize ignoring all the nay-saying buffoons.
To keep on track, I learned to juggle tasks knowing I wouldn’t be derailed. To keep my ducks in a row, I learned to haggle knowing I wouldn’t fail. With dedication and hard work, as sure as night follows day, Success was mine because I certainly did it my way!
6-7-2014 - Submitted to contest “I Did It My Way” sponsored by Shadow Hamilton

Details | Judgement Poem | |

Tongue Study

Tongue Study 4/22/2014


Tongue Study

Steady it wags
needing to know
more,about the
the very thing that
causes wars.
peace and pain
I study my tongue.
Much has been said
about the tongue yet
how has it pertained
to my own.
My tongue has delivered
and served,it has given
and taken,it has blessed,
it has cursed.
It has been written
and it has been SAID.
the tongue can be tied,twisted
curt,sweet,sharp,wagging or
bragging.

It may be your
native tongue
or foreign,it may be
exciting or boring.
If quiet is your tongue
the cat may have it.

If you use your
tongue to speak ill
of the dead you may,
challenge a force and
be cursing your life's course.

The tongue's confession's
may sweep out
dirty secrets from the
corners of your mind.

Wise words have fallen on death
ears, words smothered by pride.
truth escaped lying eyes.
Ignoring what you saw and
twisting what was heard.

Tongues may bond
with imbeciles or angels
forming positive
or negative energy.

Be careful,mind your tongue
it is closes to your own ears
and will affect you first,rather
before the others hear.

Be not at the mercy of 
an imbecilic tongue
read their eyes
and duck the darts
about to be thrown. 

Do not despise the
foreign tongue
for it is the aptitude 
of the brain, the tunnel
to his bilingual do not
expect the champions,
to cater to the dunce,
who can barley
master his own tongue.

In general I have concluded
weather you live by the sword or
stand on principals, I had to
learn to manage my tongue
as I would a loaded gun.

I will not justify my tongue
when I use it's power for wrong
and neither hold my piece,
to placate the sword of the unjust..
the real power is in
the righteousness
of the spoken tongue..

For those who live by
the sharp and sworded tongue
and wield words as death
blows to the innocent,
or those who are silent,
while others suffer
May also die
by the mighty tongue.
or by the holding of it.

Details | Judgement Poem | |

POVERTY DEFINES TRUE WEALTH

written 25th Oct 2013


I don't know if human's will ever see
 every soul born, is right where it's meant to be
For the rich to become the richest
 there has to be a place for the poorest

The entire world is built up from the same level of dirt
 each soul is born without knowledge to cause hurt
Humanity teaches us what a human's life is worth, by money and glory
 I am to believe "all lives are priceless, every soul fit's to tell Earth's story

The luckiest to be born, is that of a poor man
 he learn's the treasures, of "everything he can
Those born into all riches, have no true understanding of "richness
 seeing us not as human's, but those living in poverty "as an illness

Love start's from the soul, and from there, it is taught to grow
 the rich find another kind of love, one only brought with dough
Love, trust, compassion and grace, defining the difference in richest and wealth
 t'is the beggar off the street, who climbs the toughest road to earn his wealth 

He is the most blessed man, he is rewarded with the most valuable key
 for his wealth, is humanly "uncountable, for only God know's the value of he...




Details | Judgement Poem | |

Freedom

This place, inside, where all my feelings keep.
That lies somewhere between my heart and soul.
Should I, the guardian of my fortress seek,
Protection from those, who would see them stole.
So many times have you this bastion breeched,
With scant regard for all the dangers posed.
That my hopes and dreams should not be reached,
By eyes that only wish my heart exposed.
These inmates with their liberty restrained.
That strive against their shackles and their chains.
Am I their jailor too cautious to be blamed,
To free them no matter what their claims.
And if freeing them should reveal my heart,
I might be also freed.. my life to start

Details | Judgement Poem | |

Eyes on Words

Eyes can feel the unseen 
Before it is verbalized and organised in pain
They seize innocent criminals that abuse letters 
Eyes of creativity don’t feel no pity
They endlessly seek traumatized emotions in numerous seasons

These eyes live in the back of every tongue rotation
These eyes pee tears like polluted rain drops 
Urinating deceases polluting the already sick tears 
They lecture life with pride
Eyelashes that endlessly spray hope in words with no doubt 

Eyes on words prefer no sun glasses but stanzas
They speak darkness in all artistic graphics
They visualize visions in brain map fantasies 
A place with more sins and judgments they visit
They speak non-rated missions

When the world is rude to you don’t be picky on dreams 
Dreams are never on vacation
These eyes can sense 
These eyes are like pens 

They are fans of disappointments while contribution stepladders 
It’s like a clan 
They reproduce stomach cramps using fertile words
The family of giving and receiving

Eyes on words speak in mute expressions
They build towers of tomorrow’s errors
Buildings that look down on problems
Eyes on words are like cold visions with no ice

© Raymond Ngomane 
 

Details | Judgement Poem | |

A Mile in Her Shoes

A mile in her shoes
You look at her and wonder
and simply do not at all understand
You would think she would leave him
Before things really get out of hand.

She thinks we don’t notice
The days she shows up newly bruised
Some of us look down on her at times
Because she allows herself to be abused.

I cannot look down upon her
Because I have walked in her shoes
You cannot know the pain she has
Or her shame she has for being used 
 
She has children she must think of
And bills that need to be paid
Food for the table to be purchased
There are so many reasons she’s stayed

Her dreams and life have shattered
And hope died so long ago
Love has a different meaning to her
Something most of us will never know
 
So do not harshly judge her
She is aware of your opinions and views
And you should never ever judge her
Unless you have walked a mile in her shoes

Details | Judgement Poem | |

Many speak of paradise

Many speak of paradise

Many speak of paradise
They’ve been taught it all their lives
But maybe when it’s time to go
When that grand time arrives
They’ll find it’s not so easy 
To find that place they seek
It depends on how they’ve lived their lives
Whether they’ve been strong, or weak.

It’s no good just believing
One has to seek the truth
To take a look so deep within
Could furnish all the proof
And when one finds that truth my friends
Heaven is here, and now
No one wants to live in Hell
But most do anyhow.

If one searches deep within
They’ll be no strife for they
For they will change without a doubt
So sweet will be each day
Judgement, gossip, and the rest
They just won’t be, no more
They’ll find that there’s a Heaven
It is there within ones core

1 November 2014

Details | Judgement Poem | |

Darker than the Cavern, No Relief

Darker than the Cavern, No Relief

Darker
than the Cavern
opening gate into Hell,
the lost Souls, dead nights
with such unimaginable delights.

They seek mercy
where none can be had
an ending never found,
lost forever deep underground.

No Altar
to burn incense
a dark pit into agony lie,
caverns , dark and deep to cry.

Moans
that wail in 
pleas unfulfilled,
repentance was never willed.

Dark city
Hades in action
forever gifting torment,
upon those lost in banishment.

No sleep
just louder cries
hideous sorrowful wails
where forgiveness forever fails.

Robert J. Lindley, 09-27-2014

Note: I woke this morning from a dream of the
 underworld. David's passing was on my mind last
night and this dream shouted out a warning to me.
Too late, too late is a terrible place to be...

Details | Judgement Poem | |

Man's Quest For A Greater Future

Man's Quest For A Greater Future

Sunken man, a mystery in the making
 earth gives and gives to we so selfishly taking
Blue sky, giving color to a tired, hectic life
 time to sit to rest , to break from daily strife

Shattered homes, they decay as we flee
 racing into a future we imagine , so rarely ever see
Earth eats up , the mess we so often make
 shouldn't man rest, rest from all the greed and take

Parched and dry ground, foundation we need
 as we cut and stab we see not all the terrible bleed
Mother earth a bounty, yes, tis Heaven sent
 we must stop, enjoy before all earthly beauty is spent

A rest, a hope, before onward we often so foolishly race
We that take too much and rarely ever bother to replace!

Robert Lindley, 12-07-2014

Details | Judgement Poem | |

The Executive

The Executive Story/ poem There was once a high class executive Lady. She had a very high paying job and made a lot of money. She was very rich and hung out with the rich and famous. It happened one day while crossing the street to her job, she got run over by a bus and died. When she gets to heaven, St. Peter meets her at the door and asked who she was. She said I'm Jane the executive. St. Peter nod his head and said - very few people of your kind make it here. He then said you have to choose where you want to spend the rest of eternity, if it's Heaven or Hell. She said - I'll take Heaven she said, St. Peter said - It's not that easy. You have to spend 24 hrs. in Hell and than 24 in Heaven, than you decide. He took her down to Hell and the door open He just told the main man there - she is here for her 24 hrs. I will be back tomorrow for her. The very well dressed man told her, do come in. Jane saw that it was beautiful in there. It was like a beautiful city. There were lots of stores, restaurants and night clubs. She was impressed. She went to a club and there she saw some of her friends that had passed away before her. They were happy to see her. They had a great party that night. Before she knew, her time was up. St. Peter came for her. Now was her time in Heaven. There She saw a lot of Angels singing and everything was peaceful. The 24 hrs. were up and St. Peter ask her if she had make up her mind and what had she chosen. She said I never thought I would say this, but I choose Hell. He said - are you sure? She said yes. This time St. Peter send her down by herself. When she knock on the door, Satan himself opened up took her hand and dragged her in. What she saw surprised her. All her friends were dressed in shabby dirty clothes and it was like the whole city had disappeared and there was fire everywhere. The people were picking something to eat from the garbage. She said - what happened here? Why are my friends dressed like that Last night everything was so beautiful - we had the best of everything. Satan - said, last night we were recruiting you. Today you are here for Eternity...
0810/2014 By Lucilla M. Carrillo Note: I'm sorry that this is kind of long, but I hope you enjoy it. Moral of the story is what you see is not always what you get... heaven.

Details | Judgement Poem | |

INJUSTICE, BOMAYE

These words leave my tongue as 1 million elephants feet pummeling as an authentic voice that has tasted these bitters... These versus left without intention of harming with open arms, both ways. They left knowing a baton is anxious, they left in tears before tear gas, and gambling to be Garner's sequel. They leave with pheromones enhancing the olfactory senses to taste what this shit really smells like. A secret grand jury with fist budded, domesticated unto injustice, overrules voices in.just.us. They're the head with blind eyes looking down micromanaging justice's allowance. Riot gear tailored officers are the arms in arms versus picket-signs peacefully protesting... A paradox fuse looking for a lighter. Law and Legislature are legs this system strolls on, resisting a rest sleeping like an horse. The torso is civilians who pay taxes, which these metaphoric limbs are attached. From thee outside, this mulatto of mayhem doesn't appear to be concupiscent, planning to screw someone out of their life. Truth is, no one stands in the middle of Justice's scale, it tips harder with privatized thoughts. In order to convey and display, an autopsy is being preformed... Flipping injustice's body inside out. The blue bloods remain in vains, no signs of organ failure, while Eric's esophagus is obstructed with alphabets in a ball just below his Adam's Apple. They're the last plea he attempted to utter, "I Can't Breathe". We all seen that. This is where the olfactory senses are needed. As the officer assault this man over legalized tobacco, slowly killing him, while the other Protect and Serve advocates assist, civilians just walked by without rights to stop this wrong, that ain't rights. Injustice, Bomaye!!! v Eric Garner, WAS NOT selling single cigarettes the day he was killed... His profile was guilty, and the cops on video are innocent.

Details | Judgement Poem | |

writing to inspire

I want to write something that makes people say “I wish I wrote that”
I want to write something that gives the hopeless their hope back
I want to write stuff that Tupac would be happy to have on his notepad
I write for everyone who had a broke past

I write to cure heart-break
I hope my words offer light to those going through dark days
Good times are ahead even though they appear far away
Sometimes you have to get things the hard way

I’m writing for that girl who just got cheated on
Hope my words are a bandage to people who don’t know where they’re bleeding from
I’m writing for people who think their chances of succeeding’s gone
I write for those whose parents chose to lead them wrong

I write for those fighting discrimination
I only get offended when people give me limitations
Notorious B.I.G told me the sky is the limit
So I write till I’m out of ink or my pen is breaking

I write for those battling depression
I write for those struggling to see their reflection
I write for those who want to stand up tall
I write to inspire but I can’t please you all

My rhymes are far from perfect
But I’m honest in all of my verses
I’m trying to give worth to those who feel worthless
Because I was made to feel like I had no purpose

I’m not trying to save people
Just trying to offer a little help
I believe everyone should be made equal
Regardless of age, race, sex, looks or wealth

I hope my words will one day lead the blind
I hope my words encourage people to go against the system
That doesn’t mean to commit crimes
Just don’t be afraid to be different

I may not make a change in the world
But maybe I can help to take away the pain from a girl
Or offer a little guidance to a fatherless boy
I hope my words inspire, but I started writing to fill a void 

Details | Judgement Poem | |

Justice

They say Justice is a woman
That men should fear her wrath
Nothing will make them tremble
More than hearing her laugh

She is going to make them know
That she should be feared
They will ask for mercy
And then hide in their beard

But Justice will be kind
She will not take their head
But will make them suffer mentally
And wish that they were dead

Pain will not be physical
She will lead a merry dance
But in the end of everything
She always gives a final chance

Details | Judgement Poem | |

The God Machine

I really have outdone myself this time!
My ‘God Machine’ is finally in place!
I’ll never have to fret about a rhyme,
Or stop for a red light that changed from green 
As if it sought to put me in my place
A random hiccup clearly quite obscene.

I really am quite clever I must say
My ‘subtle knife’ (1) allowing me to splice
My ‘God Machine’ into time’s tawdry day
The true God left completely unaware
That He is now controlled by my device
And just another victim of malware.

It seems there’s quite a lot that ‘God’ screwed up
That I intend to change now I’m in charge
I think that its bad form to cover-up!
So what’s the deal with dying anyway?
Let no one die will be my countercharge
And life is just a breeze on my freeway!
 
All pain mere nuisance, manna heaven sent
And sin gives you enormous facial zits
While love and kindness clear up all your rent.
Though talents differ, jealousies dissolve
As differences bring none real benefits
And non-destructive social moves evolve.

All birth defects, parental wealth passé
Genetic weakness gone with dodo bird
No accident of birth gives worth per se
Sins of the parent cannot taint the child
That God might favor one is just absurd
The color of one’s skin no more reviled.

But now I find my plans have gone awry
My God Machine decided I’m a flaw
It seems that I’m outdated samurai
Humanity endangering MY plan
Just plankton in the future’s yawning maw
Machine judged only advocate for man! (2)

Brian Johnston
November 5, 2014

Poet's Notes:
(1) subtle knife - A reference to a magical knife that can open windows in time in one of the 3 books in the Phillip Pullman trilogy 'His Dark Materials' including The Golden Compass, The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass.

(2) My poetic version of the lesson of the book and movie 2001 (written by Stanley Kubrick and Arthur C. Clarke) where HAL, a computer so smart that it becomes sentient, decides that that only way to really protect a manned mission of a spaceship to the planet Jupiter is to kill all the humans on board the spaceship. The crew's humanity HAL decides is just too big a risk to the mission that HAL is charged (by its human programmers) to protect.

Details | Judgement Poem | |

Being you

Being you

Accept yourself
That’s all that I can say
Let your inner voice tell you
The way to live your day
Do not be hard upon yourself
That never did no good
Just be happy, never worry
It’s foolish that one should.

Love yourself
Cause you’re a ‘one off’ too
No one else can play your part
Nobody can be you
It’s a lovely world we live in
Let it seep into your soul
Then when you feel at one with life
Twill get you feeling whole.

Most people call me crazy
But I love being me
I do not care what others think
I only like to be
To be this way, it is my right
A gift sent down by fate
I’m so I’m happy being me
Each day to me is great.

14 August 2013 @ 1410hrs.



Details | Judgement Poem | |

read this please

They hate you because your you
They make up lies and call it true
They're fake behind your back
Hoping someday that you'll crack.

They hate you because your real.
no matter what they say you always heal
They're surprised to see you rise,
That you're not affected by all these lies


They hate you because you smile at them
It shows them that your a real gem
You are always true and do your best :)
Sometimes these haters just cant test

They hate you for no reason
Despite it all, you smile
whatever the reason
At the end of the day
All i'm gonna say
All i plan to be 
IS ME


-Sanderline Fleury :)

Details | Judgement Poem | |

Sentenced

They place my vowel
Under barren landscape

Sipping from cracked porcelain cup
Of an alienated heartbeat

Devilish grins
Slapping Karma’s bottom,
A quarterback’s misguided win

Liar’s prophetic retinas glaze
With metric, disciplinary ruler

They place my consolidated lyric
On upper hand
Of cubic zirconium petulance

Their torn, lanolin coated tissue
Degrading polyester embedded uniform

Mislead by “savior’s” belief
A desolate embodiment of character

They observe me
With cherry coated pupils
Through rusty, iron bars

Its frosty echoes
Portraying fickle sonatas in these stale winds

Yet,
My ambient tear
Is simply a hoax for their recycled victory

Holding wooden spoon against my waist

Ready to crawl

©Drake J. Eszes

Details | Judgement Poem | |

The Same

You used to look at me.

You glanced upon my ripened, caramel skin
With palpitated affirmations
Of your smile

Love
Friendship

Inebriated

Your titanium pupils
Illuminating across Merlot filled chalices

Another umbrella drop
Another hungry thrust
Unto solemn choruses

Another choir of sonatas
Filling our bells
Turning the tides
Against full moon deceptions

Yet, the sun rose.

We would lie on park benches’ lap
As I covered my thorns
To avoid your judgments
Drawing your attention to cresting waves
By our lakeside

Yet, the clouds rolled in.

As vehement rainfall
Caused my roots to blossom
My thorns to strengthen

You were poked by my errors.

Another angel cries.

These wingless flaws I shed
Within retinal waterfalls

As I hold onto empty, rickety barrel
For dear tomorrows

Am I
Now
Not good enough for you

Has your pulse’s arrhythmia from yesterday
Become
Stagnant

Will you still take my hand
In whimsical slow dance
Through God’s uncertainty

Because, tomorrow,
I will still be the same.

©Drake J. Eszes

Details | Judgement Poem | |

And Yet They Judge

There are those who have fallen
in the eyes of this world,
one’s “sins” more damaging than the next.
“Skeletons from closets”
so ruthlessly hurled
and so many people are left vexed.

Now I do not condone
all that comes to light
whether by papers, radio or TV.
But what if it was YOU
whose “sins were in sight,
are there things you’d want others to see ?

The world does these things
and yet they judge,
from the arm of a pointed finger stare they.
But they conveniently hide
their “filthy sludge”,
and yet in His court they’ll have their day.


                   I wrote this in response to a prodding that wouldn’t leave me alone. 
Thinking on some people who walk in the limelight or of a high public profile, I started to be 
perplexed about our willingness to BROADCAST the latest Hollywood gossip or the latest
political “fall from grace”. I am in no way condoning unwarranted behaviors and these are 
times that call for the appropriate action to be taken no matter who the offenders are. I’m 
just saying shame on those who are so willing to point fingers and yet do or would do some of 
the very same things if they could.                  Lightwalker

Details | Judgement Poem | |

Jane Doe


Her legacy, a carnage littered place. 
A crassness hidden by a comely face. 
How many roles she played to such acclaim
The naive lovers crushed with cool disdain. 

Such cruelty, in order to succeed, 
Disguised by gifted wit to mask her greed. 
When front doors opened, back doors quietly closed, 
A sense of flawless timing, one supposed. 

When those betrayed per-chance began to meet, 
Comparing scars and tales of her deceit, 
She sensed a coming rage was bearing down 
And disappeared to bless another town. 

One speculates her looks began to fade;  
An ending of the money-men parade.
The crushing weight of countless dues unpaid; 
A pauper's grave, the toll of evil ways. 

 
Gene Bourne. 
06-14-13.

Details | Judgement Poem | |

Under the Tall Trees

Of dust, of dirt;
suspended, lost, remarkable.

Of no merit;
forgotten, under the tall trees.

And bury him;
No accurate history serves.

Under cross;
buried in sand,
buried in dirt.

His face will carry forth,
past this miserable state.

To birth,
to die;
forth not.

Behold;
of man, 
of earth.

Of dust, of dirt;
suspended, found, 
frozen in time.