Gloria Nicolelli Poems

Peace shall not come through the mouth of man
For his words ar no more than grains of sand. Spoken and blown away
His words of peace, won't last a day. World of conflict and dis-ease
All choose to do as they please. In the midst of all this strife
...

A tramp can be something of a bum!
No home, roots, love or job, just a thumb! He is aimless, useless, an angry being
Constant pain of his past upbringing. Under the garbage of this mess
Is a man of beauty and finesse. He rides the buses as a tramp
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Shelter of the world
a place where evil dwells Lost and lonely, go for help
only to find HELL! Money by the millions given
to the keepers. Only produces, misery, despair
...