My Own Words

Now a' days poetry is hard to write, with all I have, with all my might
I worry about the words I cast, vocabulary so vast, though all that strikes is the words in common, divisions delight

Deep down in our personal plights, we fear the lights that dance at night
With no recognition of complacent decisions, we drive our steaks of dogma driven, thoughts of ascension towards life's purpose for our own recognition

Stop, pause, analyze your surroundings, speak your truths without compounding, drowning, falling for the fission that's astounding

Will we be without missing a beat?
Will we see without the unseen?
Are voices heard without speech?
Can we dream of what's meant to be?

Asking is a crime, in time, inside mankind
At least the current, to walk the line
Fore all that is should just be fine, as long as we can stop a grand design


-F4LL3N