Poems from mcoalmer1217
Zero. The age when life is simple.
Life in the moment, past and present, absent.
Time is a concept yet to be discovered,
Numbers possess no...
Memories of bright days flow out of my head and drip to the floor
Into a liquid blob of obscure, lifeless, dark figures.
Color. Happiness....
Outspoken, the head man had said,
We will fight no longer,
For my men are dead.
Their cries are heard upon the seas,
In the air ever...