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Personal Note:

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Poem

There it is, the puddle of humanity, the tiny lake of sadness you can't ignore. 
She sits on that rock of red and blue, her green dress soaked while her pigtails 
bob as she cries. Crystal nightmares fall from her blue eyes stabbing the blind 
hearts of those who chose to silence that voice. Evil wasn't just the thought that 
absorbed their minds but naivete to what should be better. Hopscotch will 
never be the game, war and murder is our new joy. Stupidity never looked so 
common in the house of white. WHERE ARE THE SANE? Where are the masses 
that sang hallelujah to a new beginning? The masses that picked democracy 
over one man's lies. The protectors of our children that kept them innocent. 
Our we on a rollercoaster to destruction? Where are the white saints to keep us 
from following the path of demons? Does the fear climb up your spine and 
seep into your soul that it holds your opinions? I know it doesn't keep the 
children from crying out. Is it easy to watch? You continue to battle, nothing 
done until were on top. When the young begin to fight, is that when the blood 
will cease to shed? On their tiny knees, hands pressed in hope of something 
beautiful. Do you feel anything then? Their cries to the holy one for a moment 
where its just sunshine. Remorse falls deadly on your shoulders and yet denial 
is what you scream. Will you try to open those eyes so ignorant because bliss 
is so much easier to swallow and let the children build a more true time where 
the lullaby of tranquil can be heard?

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