People Over Politics, World Over Wealth
~~~~~
~~~~~
All the dead grasses linger,
yet, they still speak to life.
Reflecting our own toil,
our own strife. Hidden in
the sky and the ground, the
secrets of living and life that
abound. Tell me you love me
and I will be happy knowing
you’ve found me. Who knew
that would happen? Would or
could or should the Ravens cry
above me? I guess the angels
came to prod and to shove me.
Though I don’t believe in angels.
I ‘ll use them this way. To reflect
nature or destiny. Who’s to say?
~~~~~


