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Every Person Is A ShopperMore Like This
These people you drive by everyday, these cars that you pass, these ears that you wish could hear you as you scream at the top of your lungs 'Go!' or the various profanities that you choose to use, every single one of these people are heading somewhere. Heading to work, to the grocery store, to the airport, somewhere, their minds bent toward that place, their voices shouting out those words that you used only moments ago, they are all making a choice in their lives that might change it entirely. Most people don't really think about these things, or at least they think that no one thinks about these things. You never really know what someone i
why cry for the dead?There's one.More Like This
There's two.
There's three.
There's four.
Wait.
What are we talking about?
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Let's dance.
Let's groove.
Let's move
My poem to JohannesI am not really a writer.More Like This
But still, I am a fighter.
This poem should be,
Really good you see,
When I in my head gets lighter.
You may find my text really bad.
If you do, that will make me sad.
Im trying my best,
To find out the rest,
on this poem that makes you so mad.
Now maybe the poem should start.
Im thinking of old poems and Art.
I will get philosophical soon enough.
Even though all the thinking is rough.
But in the next line it will start.
Now why is it stars on the sky?
Why cant the humans fly?
Are there life out there?
Are there ghosts down here?
Why do the humans die?
And maybe the biggest question off them all.
Sta.sh
