SOMETHING ABOUT ANGIE

My Poetry 2













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Most of my poetry has been written during times of great loss or depression.







































The Cold War
Children crying in the night,
People starving in plain sight.
Freedoms gone, there is no more.
What is it that we're fighting for?
We send our troops out to die.
Die for what? Die for why?
It's for our freedom so they say.
Freedom in the good old USA,
But do we have it anyway?
Sure I can walk the streets alone,
But I may or may not make it home.
Sure I have freedom of speech,
As long as I don't protest or preach.
If I do let people hear me I'll go to jail.
What they call freedom I call hell.
They say we have rights and we do,
As long as we do what they tell us to.
Nothing is real anymore..
Just go into your grocery store.
They put chemicals in what we digest,
They tell us it's necessary, it's for the best!
They poison the seeds so nothing is pure.
All the while looking for a cancer cure.
What are they doing? Can't anyone see?
A war has been waged against you and me
A war against the human race..
Is going on infront of our face!
WE ARE CASUALTIES OF LIFE.

"Life is a sexually transmitted disease"

Sometimes I feel as though I am trapped just under the surface of the sea of life, stuggeling for air and approaching danger. Sometimes I feel like a living doll, like nobody knows me at all. They just see me but they don't see me from the inside out.





angiem.jpg
Do You Believe?

Do you believe in the power of magic?
And angels from above?
Do you believe in a higher power?
Do you believe in love?

You can't see it, but you can feel it.
Does seeing mean believing?
Can love grow on a cold imaginary wire?
Or is the feeling just deceiving?

Does love need the warmth and
comfort Of the human touch?
What is it that makes us want it?
And yearn for it so much?

A blind person can feel the softness
Of a cotton throw,
And can also feel the warmth
Of a fires glow.
Who are we to say they are missing out?
Is this what Love is all about.
In their minds... it may be more beautiful
than our reality.

A person who has lost his sense of smell,
can still appreciate the beauty of a flower,
He can feel the warmth of the sun on a summer day.
He can enjoy singing in an april shower.

A person who can not hear the singing of the birds,
Can see enchanting details very seldom heard.
Happiness can live amongst the deaf dumb and blind,
But happiness without love... That is hard to find..






WHAT IS LOVE?

Love is our seventh sense,
Perhaps the most important we possess.
We can't live our lives without it.
But we can live without the rest.
Sight, sound, smell, taste and touch.
We don't need them as much...
Love isn't just a sense,
It's an emotion too.
Nothing makes you feel better
Then feeling I love you.

What Would you do?

One day when I woke up after a good nights sleep, I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth. I grabbed a Pepsi out of the fridge and cracked it open like I usually did, I ate my Honeycombs with just a little milk and put on my blouse, the one made of silk. I slipped on my boots and headed out the front door, my boys reminded me to stop at the store. I started my car and pulled out of the drive, that's when I saw I saw it comming straight from the sky! A huge rolling black cloud that was louder than thunder, with a fiery base of which we were under! That's when I noticed the people in the streets, mothers holding babies, and men on their knees! I got out of my car and took my boys in my arms, both of them were crying for fear of the alarms. Make the noise stop mom.. That's what they said. It's so loud that it's hurting my head. I looked at them each and tried not to cry for I knew in a moment we were all going to die. It was a bomb, I guess they caught us off guard, everything we did to them was now in our own front yard. I guess we had it comming.. that's what we said when we bombed them. Just something to think about.
 
This was written 2 years before 9-11