A Poet Prospective In Rhyme

Tired of the hatred Among one another The killing of our brothers This is not good at all. This world is dying slowly There’s no room for hate, Stop it before it’s too late This is not good at all. The many voices of the past We hear in the shadows These things you got to know Because this is not good at all. As I look around me Shaken to my very core Of these things I see Of those things I feel Where reality is real And all the world is dark Where war’s cloudy skies Flies over like a hawk As if death came. Hey poet say it so--- Just want to know It’s just reality waking From a slumber so deep. April. 2022