can’t hear own thoughts too much noise trafficking from lies and hate masking out voices in pain homeless dreams some wrapped in the currency of war but what can one voice do to rise above war’s cacophony of misery though a simple solution one could join the choir of hope sending forth words of unwavering belief in tomorrow that grasps the minds of social sinners like an old gospel hymn swaying the coldest heart towards redemption or offer up such a sweet solo of truth so powerful that the walls of deception crumble into dust revealing all that was hidden that my friend is what one voice can do so rejoice
child of the dead your name has been lost soon you will forget their touch and the warmth of their words these muddy fields and makeshift tents are you new parents but they will not embrace you nor seek to feed you now you alone must do those things expect only more tears
have you found
your
dried tears
or
have they been
caught up
in the winds
of
time
circling
above
your tomorrows
but
falling
today
to blind you
like
an ocean fog
to
where
you are
or
could be
