Down the stream
There is a boat
The bow it gleams
A shimmering coat
Sublime supreme
Keeps you afloat.
The boat is hope
Onboard is freedom
You pull the rope
To sail to see some
Sea foamed soap
And smiles to greet them.
When you reach
Your destination
The mind of each
Shipshape creation
Will wisdom teach
True divination.
The Mockingbird calls the shots
While politicking puerile plots
The blood it coagulates and clots
And History memory forgot.
Tears pour down Sorrow’s cheek
Hope cries out bruised and bleak
A universal losing streak
Would you want this Earth if you were meek?
The sense of loss from Zeitgeist’s grief
Innocents incur broke belief
Future frowns at Tomorrow’s thief
While pulling teeth for pure relief.
The tree of life
Is embedded in grief
The rolling tears
Are a falling leaf.
Yesterday’s sorrow
Is tomorrows joy
Life’s tapestry interwoven
With death’s own ploy.
Mortality
Is essential
And impossible to avoid
But your essence and your
Spirit can never be destroyed.
poorman'sdreams 