Bury the Hatchet. (a poem)


I wake up every day only to notice the newspapers citing heinous acts of crime.

weary eyes, wounded soul,
pit of flesh, writhing, falls,
hits the pearl of your eyes,
laughes thee as it drifts by,
pit of flesh, it is naught,
torn, melted, wrought
a gift of nature drifts by
when will I again fly?

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