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Coming up short
Summer brease blowing through the air with such clarity, the very sound from the silenced battle has ended, just like a ray of hope, the sun forcefully tears it's way through the clouds, the birds that once dropped atom bombs on sanity, are now singing and flying gracefully through the sky, the soldiers blood from their forgiven wounds, now grow trees where it once tainted, the nightmares are now turned to fantasies, the very aspect of fear is now transformed into love and compasion, i walk down a road once turned black with hatred and distrust, which is now gleaming with respect and dignity, a vision of an angle before me makes me dropp to my knees, questioning my vision, and hoping for my fate, she came and wispered the sweet words of the future in my ear, and in the end, i came up short! Irony at it's best...
poem
by
Matthew Boisjolie
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