** All for a better rose**
As we change and rearrange the shapes of ours lives.
It causes me great pause to digest the future in the wind.
To what end do we fill these voids with things and toys
Of girls or boys whispers and noise.
Shall we give it all away and start a new
No that’s been done and it’s no fun
it always just
More stuff and things
big fancy rings, but what
of what we create.
To paint or prose to heal others woes
or listen with eyes wide with Intent.
It’s all so strange as I enter the next stage and watch the colors wash away.
One minute a need, a want a glimmer of hope.
The next your dead, to worms you’ll be feed
All for a better rose
“Sometimes words continue to ring true long after they’ve been written and forgotten.”