We walk across our lands,
Dreaming a dream that may be incapable.
We stand in the middle of the woods,
Being called witches and devil worshipers.
We stand in a field full of flowers,
We are called dreamers.
We kneel in front of the lord,
We are called puritans.
We stand over your dying child in attempt to heal them,
We are called wiccans.
We are burnt at the stake,
Because we were told lies of misfortune.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry: Kimberlee's Look Upon Life.
PoesíaA little way of being able to get into my head, without completely going insane. Let's start now, shall we?
