Guns

When it comes to the question of guns
There is always a damn silly answer
We`ve seen it before
The trumpets of war
Find many a gullible dancer.

Faces of Death

At the Funeral
I could tell at a glance

They were secretly mourning themselves

In advance.

Come Summer

Its dark in the park without you
The sky is not so blue
Its true

Colours less bright
The picture incomplete
Is it my eyes fading ?

You are the breath of summer

Blessed Be

Blessed are the meek
For we can push past them in queues
And generally abuse
Them

Blessed are the believers
Who take it all in
While we rake it all in

Blessed are the peacemakers
Who supply the time
For a plan of attack

Nature Fights Back

Untitled

The potted plants
All died
Neglected and dried
After you were gone

I did not care
Wrapped in my cloak of sorrows
Facing empty tomorrows

Not until December
Did I remember

How very beautiful they were.