Death’s hand rips the numbers we so viciously cling <br />We stare at the dirt wishing we could sing <br /> <br />All shall some day sing of the sky <br />When we finally allow our passions to die <br /> <br />But here we all still sit, <br />Munching on dirt and grit <br /> <br />Oblivious <br /> <br />When will we relish in the clouds <br /> <br />My addiction I do not share <br />My sadness I grimly wear <br /> <br />Sanguine thoughts of my existence <br />Where is His providence <br /> <br />What is time and why <br /> <br />All is the same <br />But the lie I so fearfully tame <br /> <br />All are lost, but opine the way <br />They only discover what it means to be gay <br /> <br />Not this time, no interlude <br />This story never seems to conclude <br /> <br />No, for our form transcends <br />Far beyond which the mind bends <br /> <br />None shall cross <br />None is cross<br /><br />Wandering Scarlet<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-taste-of-earth/
