The world is burning.
The heat suffocating.
Our leaders, can only extol
“Life is a beach”.
Tag: poem
Boris
We sit on a train
staring into the abyss.
Is this action, really sane?
My fears, you dismiss.
The abyss, coming closer,
the end ever nearer.
You think you’re the composer
but that is a veneer.
You’re but a puppet
on a cut-price budget.
The Sentiments
The sentiments, are all the same.
The sentiments, are all a game.
The sentiments, allowing you to pass,
your job is done, no need for more.
The Walls
The walls
they surround
they closet
they hide.
I need, never leave.
Litter
I sit, surrounded by litter,
daytime TV droning,
sinking, into the sofa.
Deeper, and further
I sink.
Life goes by.
Democracy
Social media,
fake news,
distortion
and collusion,
Minding
We wander through the lands.
We wander through our minds.
We run through our life.
We run through our dreams.
We stroll through our work.
