poem I wrote a while back
where is art when flowers grow?
where is time when I let go?
these man made measures that i know
mean nothing in this world.
we build bridges over natures roads
and forests formed from high rise trees,
but mountains stretch above our world
to clouds which float with untouched ease.
war, religion, law and crime
are just infections of our time.
when we're all gone and I know it cant last,
there'll be no such thing as future or past.
Created: Aug 24, 2009Document Media