There is an answer.
I have something to live for...
I watch you from a distance
sipping reddish juice...
My eyes are tired from watching
this poor excuse of a leader...
It’s been a while...
my eyes have gotten used to seeing...
A meeting room
filled with tension...
* I am in no way downplaying those who have died...
These streets once filled...
We are locked in our lighthouses,
and the chasms of ocean...
Although the sky
had rejected her...
*** This is a poem that recycles bits and pieces...
All my life I’ve tried so hard to become a happy...
(I)
Majestic; globalism's own pulsing heart...
This town is a poem
These roads are eloquent...
One day I will be my own happy poem.
I will wake up with a soul...