Hate
Morals uprooted, the trickle of time the life of a man, the life of a lie the solace thoughts of a broken thing, with the lack of being a human being, hate. Death an disease the signs of poverty the blood that trickles down to the knee, rape. Abused an cast out a frozen cattpillar never reaching its full potinal, a thought that seems so deep but it’s so simple, love gone astray replaced by hate, still having the people stuck in slavery days. The sun makes it routes but it’s doesn’t shine no light for man, it’s always night. Breaking the chains, changing the times embarking on space to escape a small place trying to reach heaven, not to get in but just to see the gates, hate if the creator abandoned the created then who takes the reigns who leads the right path so the horses don’t go estray , do they roam free. Are follow a code, who now knows the right way to go, hate instant gratuities has taken place. Not looking for tomorrow just embracing today, so pleasure an pain seem to co-exist killing ourselves but saying we love it, hate a waterfall trickles it just seems to pour crying for the ones that can’t be found anymore we bury are dead but, manage their memory’s in a place that only seems to be fit for dreams. In the end their thoughts seem like scary dreams, hate, fire and brimstone, a broken piece of coal applying the pressure, to harvest a stone, life’s never easy an life’s never great, but it takes time to turn, imperfections into something great, hate
Copyright © Joseph Smith | Year Posted 2013
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