Sunday, November 30, 2014

Madness by A.S. Washington

There are those who'd scream until pain gripped tight,
Press upon your mind their perspective truth,
Who'd forbid with fury your own insights,
Having half the skill of neglectful sleuths.
Wrath is showered upon the innocent,
When anger reaches a critical mass,
Is it a crime not sharing sentiments?
With frowning faces out holding the lash.
There is no risk in silence, only death,
The reaper shall make his way to us all,
Therefore be passionate in your stances,
Even if hatred should answer your calls,
          Upon that face of scorn, plant soft a kiss
          Life is short and madness, sure wont be missed.

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