Tags:
  • Angst

    it

    He stands and spews the ideals of the gods who were before him, never thinking of the innocents lost at the war between change and selfishness. Random bits of emotion piercing the ever evolving tissue of humanity.In the beginning there was one and it was all there was, tumbling and spinning, shifting and turning. It was all.

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    Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    martyg’s Poems (7)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    it 0
    You Again 1
    demon 1
    The Man 2
    The Crowd 2
    Well 1
    so 1