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What is on my mind...Poems
I write poems for the hell of it. Observe... Quotes are in them too. Whatever I write may not be a poem but who cares.
Anger flies into the wide eyed people in the skies.
Who believe they've seen enough and let down fiery tears to blight.
They drown their shells and drown their foes.
To no avail do they drown their souls.
They weep and weep
And yet they fail.
Their cries echo,
while they wail.
The skies grown red,
their eyes have bled.
The tears they've cried have all gone red.
So now they die, they fall from the sky.
Bodies have fallen, and whithered.
They shriveled up and dried.
With eyes carved out by knives.
They grew tired of crying.
The anger left them hollow.
Their sorrow filled their bowels.

It's over now.
It's over now.

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