Email Poem

Your IP Address: 18.188.103.74

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

There is something peculiar in our midst. For the first time, man has never been so distant from an authentic kiss. 
But today, now, right now, hugs are no longer warm. Bees are rarely seen and they no longer swarm. 
Where is the honey of our lives? Are the hugs and kisses hiding in the abandoned hives?
 The Morning Glory chorus is singing less, with less vigor at dawn, and throughout the digital day, there is more stress. 
FTX falling before it can get up. Inflation aggrandizing and no coins in the homeless man's cup. 
No more lap time or family dinners; only IG selfies and fake tweets about being a winner. 
But we're losing. We're losing in a major way, so much so that children would rather stay inside on a beautiful day. 
BBLs and cumbrellas are on the rise—no self-love or knowledge, just a big old disguise. 
They say flux is inevitable; this we understand, but certain matters should always acquiesce with the master's plan. 
And some things should never change. My, my, I tell you, there is something strange. 
Some things should never change, I say, and there is something strange that's not God's way.

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required