I think about the future,
And I wonder about our life.
To much hate for one planet,
To much fear.
Somehow,
I missed the announcement
That love had died,
I missed her funeral,
I hope it was nice.
Lost;
The masses cling to faith,
While the homeless
Cling to paper sacks,
Filled with empty dreams,
Fading, like old yellow newspapers,
In the rain.
In the future,
There will be a day,
When life
Will be worth more than greed;
And paper sacks,
Are just paper sacks.
I hope it comes soon.
Good morning sandra, you are like everyone hoping for a better world nice people hope for a better world, bad people want to make it worse myself i want to make sure i have a good supply of brown paper bags with ruby red lips painted on them, so i can kiss them good night Good night sandra good nightttttttttttt With a lovely warmth allannnnn
Great poem, Sandra! Welcome back. Very pertinent to our times, thoughts are right up my ally. H
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Truly a good thought Short little burst of wonderfull thoughts thats good