No Title

No Title There is a reason why Just let the brain roam It is in the morning in town The ground green The sky blue I look up high I wonder when I too die I accept and move on To all it is common I forget and pay for the coil I want to make a meal for the gone great To buy candle and light the air Then to all fallen soldiers R.I.P I carry on till I pass on I also remember to buy a cake For a time in life With the Greats of Great. Back at my tin roof My radio makes me laugh That an African man is turning into a woman Again I hear of bullfights in parliaments Then I confirm power madness is permanent The news is too much I tune to another channel 'Welcome to power poetry'. My mind feels free I decide to take a pen Try some lines '' If I write about the end signs" I'll sound a preaching poet Better preach than conform To a night in the light pretending to be the light" I stop and read through I stop and realize I am not through There is no title And it seems simple So I don't stop I write. Then the meal The candle The cake To the greats R.I.P