We reach for the truth, and the truth we yearn,
But the truth is grim, and we will never learn,
Disappointed and saddened, by a quaint - looking world,
A deception of life, into a ball we had curled,
We cannot shield the weak, nor help the poor,
Yet we try and we try, optimism galore,
But in a land so spacious, in a land so brute,
We're a needle In a haystack, like misfortune to loot,
Though there's small hope that lingers, an obstinate light,
It leads us through dark, through the formidable night.
YOU ARE READING
Reminisce
Puisi~ 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...
