Poem for the Day

When you pick on another

You really are

Making a fool of yourself.


Vice versa

When someone picks

On you

And you don’t defend


Then you have no


The greatest tragedy

Is when people

Aren’t heard.

No laws protect

The young man

For they just assume

He is on his own


This place is full of

Lizard monsters

Goblin man-eaters

Dwarf thieves

Leatherhide witchcraft

Frost Giants

And red-eye


No place for

A peaceful man,

War is too often

Waged in

The peaceful


I just want to


The birds sing.

What good are my words

When no one hears them?

What chance for hope

When they only hate?

Swarms of infected


Swarm the hillside,

The Redwoods

Are burning.

What does it matter to the


He only wants to harm

The innocent.

Little children brought

To an altar,

Cut up

In pools of blood,

They eat the young

The youthful doves

And the blood grants

Long life.

Far too pure

Eat enough babies

They will haunt you,

Fall brings

The orange leaf

Full of fiery rage

And westerly winds

That crack the trunks

Making the boughs


Never trust a wall,

The best of them


So much violence

In red weekday eyes,

No life or art in

The cesspools

Boiling yellow

Waters are


The last frontier

Is filled with



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