When will you purge the past that cultivates and nurtures deadly mold?
Loving the imperfection of your perfect picture
Once a barren desert of broken dreams
Now a field of desire and hope grows
It is also a place owned by all and that is where I begin....
Tears of hope roll down my dry cheeks
There is no face or sound to go with this predator after its prey, only the oppressing feeling of dire and the need to be free from its touch-less grip.
Maybe someday when this world is done hating each others differences we can all sit down and have a good laugh about it while we break bread together and make sure every person has a warm belly and full heart