It's hot, hot, hot,
Burning my pale skin.
The next day it is cold, cold, cold,
And I must tote a sweatshirt
No matter the weather.
Why?
Ah, I understand this.
The people old enough to do anything to the world
Sit and watch the extremes only get worse.
Some even DENY that it exists.
And I can only laugh.
Our world is dying and no one cares.
Our world is dying and it's getting worse.
YOU ARE READING
The Beginning To The End
PoesíaI've never been a poet, that much is certain, but I can tell you that it does get written. A lot. These are the collections of my poetry I've written, and some of them hit hard for me.
