too many people are passing by wearing a question mark on their forehead.
up above the blackened day sky are doves in flight.
every trees sway with the lazy wind albeit unable to hear the music it hums.
too many people are dying, they lie helpless on the ground.
asking mercy with a tongue gone stuck...
they run wild with a charcoal on their hands, unto one another scribbling...
a question mark and unto the walls and up on the trees and even unto the shadows of the wind.
the doves heading home to perch, to rest...the sky is dark.
-jenh2010
up above the blackened day sky are doves in flight.
every trees sway with the lazy wind albeit unable to hear the music it hums.
too many people are dying, they lie helpless on the ground.
asking mercy with a tongue gone stuck...
they run wild with a charcoal on their hands, unto one another scribbling...
a question mark and unto the walls and up on the trees and even unto the shadows of the wind.
the doves heading home to perch, to rest...the sky is dark.
-jenh2010
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