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~We are misguided youth living by misguided truth~



Last Updated: 4/15/2007

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Gender: Male
Status: Single
Age: 23
Sign: Scorpio

City: Shippensburg
State: PENNSYLVANIA
Country: US
Signup Date: 10/22/2005
Monday, December 18, 2006 

Hey everyone, here's a poem to give you a taste for the stuff I write, look for more to come:

 

To lessen and to make the same

devalue one for more

the most important things that are

presented in our lives

are those which we can barely see

 

behind the canvas, the color the pain

skeletal his dream remains

objects lack true clarity

insight to their insides

the camera focuses, the lens

the click

another moment captured

the only proof of

the existence of time

is what lies beyond the lens

 

in pictures we see moments

in pictures we see faces, expression

expressed through the art of every day

the beauty in each scene.

 

Crystal clearings

blurry at the wake

the rise the sun the fall the break

overlapping clouds of gray

 

oh vastness, oh disorientation

the beauty in it all

in every shadow I see the beauty

and with every word I try to pour it out

perhaps art is thought that's pure

if used for the right cause

a form of expression

a form of change

brightly colored now

the same

 

click

another moment captured

this one, the mountain side

atop the peak the cloud does swirl

the snow upon the ground

 

winter breaks

on this dreary scene, carols sung aloud

call out, from door to door

call out to neighbors sung

 

this time there's fields of hay, of wheat

this time the animals find shelter

beneath the dreams of a yesterday

that has gone to far away

 

every moment becomes

a continuance of the past

we always exist in now

but it's gone before too long

 

click

another moment captured

this time, it's time itself

time the clock, the piece

oh time

withered be your hand

does time always flow the same

no

does it ever go away?

no

can we sow the seconds

into hours

and harvest this growing seed?

 

perhaps

 

the farmer's hand withered

like time itself

he toils long and hard

to provide for a family

that he undying loves

he works and provides

the literal fruit of his labor

 

their loving arms wrap

around his sunburnt shoulders

on this that summer day

on this that every day

 

seasons are present in every day

not defined by lines we've drawn

in spring there is snow

and in winter there is rain

 

globally the temperature rises

the water crests the same

our world is drying up

 

but not dry yet

 

the waters ever rise.