Jan. 15th, 2012

fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
 when the past does not fade and disappear

we're forced to confront it to face the pain

of solid memory to feel all again

within each mind something in the dull air

weighs down upon us with the weight of care

while every face reflects the groaning strain

and total terror that we can see plain

when nothing's left to mankind but raw fear

the once safe garden now becomes a cage

by our own efforts  for we are so dense

we cannot see the function of a wall

is to hold in not just to keep out rage

that justice functions better as defence

and isolation leads to the last fall

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fledgist: Me in a yellow shirt. (Default)
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