Poetry
Spoken Word
Why is it so
When we look and see and think and perceive
That all we believe and all we know
Is the bad in this place
The bad in this world
The pain that’s at stake
And that’s what we hold.
Strangers we meet
We don’t try to greet
We don’t feel the need
To understand the fact
That all they want to ask
Is what’s your name
Where you come from
And where you’ve been
Are we the same
And want to be friends
But we ignore
And we forget
What we’re living for
And not for hate
Nor discomfort and shame
But world peace’s the game
That we all want to play
And we all want a say
Cause who wants to live
In a world full of hate
But we forget
That we made it that way.
Escapade
Hey sweet girl from New York Street,
Look at your hair the way
it lingers in the sunlight
And how nice it would be
To undress the place
Your next postcard will leave
Because you’re not running away
Without some memories
In your sundress pockets.
You’ve lost your Southern road,
Hand with a map, heart with a route
to the crossroad of your soul
When it becomes too late
You won’t even know
and you can’t even see that you
woke up again
and it all became
just another dream.
