Black & White
Black & white
That ain't right
To see the world in gray
Seems so backwards today
The world is a spectrum
No two people just the same
So to see them with no color
Seems totally insane
People are a rainbow
Every tint, every shade
But to the monochromatic scale
People let their minds fade
This world is a wasteland
Full of polluted ideas
It seems there's no hope
For existence without fear
Stop Light
The red light turns green
& off you go
The next light turns yellow
But you never even slow
Racing down the path
A narrow road opens wide
Only blankness rushes past
Making blurs on either side
Tears blinding
Soaking your whole face
The road starts winding
Covering empty space
Quivering chin
Shaking skin
As you replay the scenario
Again & again
Hair stands at attention
Pedal to the floor
Arms locked in position
No turning back anymore
Shadow Figure
Sinking into the shadows
Slipping from the light
Crouching in the darkness
Falling from the height
Hiding from reality
& the bitter people it shares
Perhaps being obsolete
Will erase all the stares
Becoming invisible
Is a difficult task
Especially when everyone
Seems to know your past
They love to judge you
For someone you are not
They never gave you a chance
No, not one single shot
A hot burning sun
Now a cold dead star
A once glimmering bulb
Now a sphere that is sparse
The light sucked out
By those leaches of society
No comfort from friendship
Only warmth from getting high it seems
Keep your head up, don't you cry
Pillows were not made to dry
Social Media
We are all under scrutiny
There's no place to hide
Social media is the culprit
It reeks of hatred worldwide
People like to try to judge
They will hold a grudge
Into lives they spy & pry
With an eagle eye
You shouldn't have to be blind to be kind
Or to look upon each face with grace
What is up with controversy
Can't we show each other mercy?
The key to tolerance
Is to fight ignorance
They key to humanity
Is international amity
YOU ARE READING
Random Bits of my Brain
PoetryA collection of my poetry over the last 15 years or so. I am more proud of some works than others, however, all of it is a part of who I am. Organized into categories rather than chronologically.
