Something Wicked

Posted on another site and of course it is mine.

Just a poem.

Here he lays upon his bed
Thinking more and more
All these thoughts pounding his head
An internal war

All the wicked things in life
Horrible events
A murder done with a knife
Hearts twisted and bent

People or heartless machines
Always here and there
May plan all these horrid schemes
Without a thought or care

It's sad but always is true
Sigh escapes his lips
His thoughts are going askew
Words are at the tip

He is always asking Why?
Again and again
No one answers his still cries
For these are 'the men'

Imperfect and some what cracked
Violent thoughts we all have
Perfect is what we lack
Is it half and half?

He thinks "Who will ever know?"
Some might say the Lord
Others say Science will know
We all strive forward

Wars are fought and always lost
Every life we give
To something not worth the cost
No one gets to live

Everybody thinks they are right
And no one is wrong
Every one has lost their sight
Cause is all but gone

Greed conquers some of the best
Their hearts over turned
Their minds never put to rest
And they won't learn

His mind can't handle these thoughts
He will soon combust
These feelings are getting caught
Tangled in a fuss

He pushes them far away
But they will come back
Sleeps for a moment today
Always they come back

The End

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