- Books, Literature, and Writing
A poem entitled "If"
Minds of paper thin wills and weeping willows,
O' How I wonder if the mongers will stop invading the human wall.
A wall that must only accompany happiness with oh so sadness,
Candied apples with sprinkles; the Sun has set so completely from focus,
One but must only wonder, what would have become if but for the one,
A document, Magna Carta, was not deemed a need for world politics.
Ramble through, the tunnels but only lead further,
the imagination knows no bounds but by leaps of faithful imperfections,
a blind rooster need only crow for morning light, but all in subjection.
A powerful engorgement if not for the wise and weary conciousness.
Oh, if I saw the day, a freed hope of desertion from all wars, a time of peace.
It was shattered quickly, a bomb whizzed by on television, another death,
Our kids, why must they watch the heart of ice rain destruction of flames,
It's face understanding no limitation of proletariat disruption from breathing.
So I peacefully mediate the thoughts of why, when, how, where, and so,
in ordinance only comply with one such area of question,
it's origin not of alpha or omega, nor of world beginning or end,
but of a simple but powerful statement, blinding truth behold: