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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2103537
by Liv
Rated: E · Poetry · Political · #2103537
Society's destroying some precious things. A story represented by a man meeting a spirit.
Oh whispers,
whispers I hear
coming from the shadows near.

Farther down,
Down I go
on my feet I rode.

I walked,
walked through my door
when I saw a suffering spirit on the floor.

It yelled,
Yelled my name
"Come here, my child, for you are to blame!"

It said,
Said to me
"Oh my, oh my, can't you see?"

Replied back,
back I spoke
"All I see is a dead man of the broke."

"For you,
You are blind,
You will never see anothers heart or hear what's on their mind.

You caused,
caused all of this
with your greedy soul and ignorant bliss.

For I,
I am the symbol
of your awful generation and it's horrible morale of,

How when,
when it is okay to keep talking
and shut up the ones who are amazingly shocking.

The dark,
dark in which these people have been in
confined with their talents while you are covering the world with sin.

Open up,
up those eyes shall be
for this is all we need.

Oh when,
when are you going to realise
that what is in these people heart's and minds is the key to strive."

Looked away,
away into the distance
I replied, "Are we really that resistant"

Back to,
to me it said
"My dearest child of God, you are as resistant as the chains on body that keep me dead."





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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2103537