The violins cry out for cultural identity. As bullets still fly from klashnikov’s. “The cold is coming.” Sounds the whispers of suicidal writers. Innocence is manipulated, developed, then kills. Released from hate. The defiance, awe inspiring. As caterpillar to butterfly, let the metamorphosis happen. In a white stoned building I see lions in crowns movingContinue reading “Butterfly”
Tag Archives: Beauty
I Have a Word
I imapct others, I have a word. I’m chaos and order. I’m everything I’ve seen and heard. I detest resentment weaved in lies. I search love, conceived in truth. With tears in both my eye’s. I believe in the individual and in their rebirth. I believe He created the heavens and the earth. I’m yours,Continue reading “I Have a Word”
Smith Shine Poetry 