A
angelacgdowns
Guest
HI! I just wrote this.
What does it mean to you? I would like your opinions, thoughts, constructive criticisms, and what it means to you.
10 points to best answer. =]
Thanks!
Title: Wrinkle
Pale dissatifactions block the truth from our minds;
We don't eagerly admit the sanity we struggle to find.
Does the nightlark still crow and does the morning owl still cry?
All we know is overturned; the age of understanding has died.
Does the moon still rise in the morn, as the sun shines brightly at dusk?
For now winter grows so very warm; we still don't understand even as we must.
Why can't the worn-out ways of man we know so well be changed?
Why can't all stems of delicate natural order be rearranged?
The stars we've placed in pale blue sky don't shine nearly as bright;
and though we say we wish for change, what really makes it right?
It's well known we want difference in our lives, our nation, our universe;
but what if our freedom has to be sacrificed, just so we've grasped 'change' first?
There's a wrinkle in your happily-ever-after, a tiny awkward seam in your 'The end'...
For if we trade in our freedom for change; how is America to mend?
What does it mean to you? I would like your opinions, thoughts, constructive criticisms, and what it means to you.
10 points to best answer. =]
Thanks!
Title: Wrinkle
Pale dissatifactions block the truth from our minds;
We don't eagerly admit the sanity we struggle to find.
Does the nightlark still crow and does the morning owl still cry?
All we know is overturned; the age of understanding has died.
Does the moon still rise in the morn, as the sun shines brightly at dusk?
For now winter grows so very warm; we still don't understand even as we must.
Why can't the worn-out ways of man we know so well be changed?
Why can't all stems of delicate natural order be rearranged?
The stars we've placed in pale blue sky don't shine nearly as bright;
and though we say we wish for change, what really makes it right?
It's well known we want difference in our lives, our nation, our universe;
but what if our freedom has to be sacrificed, just so we've grasped 'change' first?
There's a wrinkle in your happily-ever-after, a tiny awkward seam in your 'The end'...
For if we trade in our freedom for change; how is America to mend?