Email Poem

Your IP Address: 18.217.218.162
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
I bury my face in my hands to cover the shame because everything was not the same, the spectacular air parade was blocked from the balcony and trooping the colors were searching for their destiny.

The regiment and horse parade was fine but the air parade worth neither a nickel nor dime, the excitement had gone out of the skies, and what I saw in the air has caused me to fear.

 War planes were flying in, and Normandy spirits began to sing, who were the passengers escorted on those planes, they divert when they reached the airport to prevent collusion and so the colorless air parade grew dim.

Nothing spectacular was coming in, and security planes were racing in the skies and the universe was preparing for the hour when the global sorrows will be over and trooping the colors would take over.

I waited to see if the colorful air parade would take shape but everyone kept looking as the fighter jets invading the skies and nothing was there to see except the rain clouds passing by.

And just when I thought it was over, the red, white and blue national color passes over and the air parade came to an abrupt end without an incident.
The royal children standing on the balcony could not salute their dignity they could not see a thing and the royal spectacular was embarrassing.

What was really going on? They had erected a giant memorial in front of the balcony and blocked out the view of everything. The children were disappointed but they were happy to be with their mum in the public.

The color is burning out the tree and the temperature has risen to hundred and fifty degrees; I can see the multitude moving away for the sanctuary, ripping up their coats and gowns and smashing the stained-glass windows with hammer, and claw bars. They smashed up the crown and wet the gown in blood stain colors.

Food is rationed, and the farmers are not cultivating the land, they spend time protesting in the street and the crops are withering slowly in the fields, you have got to talk some sense in them to return to the farm and cultivate fields.

The theaters, opera houses, movie theatre, clubs and bars are filling up and the gyms and the stadiums have overflowed and the arenas have no space to accommodate a single soul, 
.
Schools are back in swing, and I am happy when I hear the children sing. The night has burnt out of the day and normality is coming back to the town and wilderness has burnt down.

Listen carefully,  the cocks stopped crowing, the donkeys  stopped braying, the religion is gone out of the schools and all  the children starts obeying the golden rules.

The mission will soon complete, and the universe is marching up the street, faces without colors are parading the streets and we are going to have a real family treat, with friends, associate and secret lovers and those working undercover.
.
Come and join the flee and share with all the faces without color.
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required