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Disgrace
12 January, 2004
Author: Ben Franklin

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If this world was a better place,
then maybe id wipe this look of disgrace of
my face.

We are only living to take,
then we go through the process of being fake,
the rate we are going, none of us will get through the
gate.

Have you looked outside your window,
its all in a state,
thats why i have to belive in fate,
we might aswell get the bomb and set the
date.

We are on a collision course with each other,
its our children that will suffer.

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Comments on this poem/writing:

Tarna (66.72.30.139) -- Friday, January 16 2004, 07:55 am

but will they...

How can they suffer for something they have never known. Perhaps you mourn premature. People adjust to life and change things.. Sometimes it is just very slowly... Thought prokoking poem. :)
 
Name:                                           Remember Me

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