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A lone blade of grass The sense of nature sweet with fragrance flourishing In times of uncertainty marked on a blotted page Within solace we release its pain, Shouts of madness torn asunder. Pilgrims progress sharpened its pencil Insanity Marked on a blotted page yet fully intact When will we act our age, In demonic torn relics of suede in billows creation To frolic in the inner ambiance of the day A humble way by which to bow the knee to pray Although its shivers down my spine in frolic Insanity In chosen ambiance onto its beckoning call, The way of a poor child after the fall Then marked on a blotted page all alone With emmense inner conflict & pain Shoulder to cry after the rain A quiver of the nerve pressed on a heal in sore vex plight Insanity Innocent killings of the unborn in their mothers womb To ceil their tomb from harming fumes Insanity Bras being burned in our streets Children returning to war zones we call schools The march of the soldiers & fools The eclipse of the sun had tainted my inner vision A quest for power in sore derision A decision of laughter in the height of the wind A feeling of neglect by which one faintly can depend Shouts of praise filled with sounds of laughter The preparation of a guest to await the great here after Insanity Children having baby's & crazy Crimes of the innocent in the blood on our streets Getting crazy in the linens on the sheets Crazy music as we learn another timely beat A heart pulse torn in a crazy way, A different dance display A laughter in the rain A page of intellect in my brain A bridge in circumstance amidst the pain Sadness in the heart again Perhaps its best to hold my breath Then count to the number ten In shadows the darkness creeps in Society is going straight to Hell!

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

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