Opening our eyes to a searing sun,
Seeing it as the 'pure',
When we truly fail to recognise none,
It is as fake as one's demure,
For it disappears when we're truly in aid,
And appears when we're in blithe,
Through your hardships, away it laid,
The sun's joy is just a myth,
a friend to your bliss, not an acquaintance to need,
What we see is one big lie,
All we do to our posterity; is to them, we feed,
We're not eating; yet, we try,
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This went from the sun representing a fake friend, to hungry people and lies :/ heh
YOU ARE READING
Reminisce
Poetry~ Words leak through minds, like too much ink does to paper. They spread silently like diseases and blossom like the non-existent amaranthine in spring. ~ (COVER NOT MINE) (All rights reserved) (A collection of rhyming poems. Part 2 out now) (Hig...
