Random poem
Someone tell the Painter,
His sunsets are too bright,
They fill my eyes with tears,
For I fear to walk in light.
Someone tell the Band,
The music is too free,
It touches places inside,
The shattered soul of me.
Someone tell the Children,
That death waits at the end,
That all sorrow here is illusion,
True love, your only friend.
Someone tell the Gods,
That their uncaring hand,
Is all I've known of hatred,
And I've yet to understand.