Inner mingle with sunshine like a lake side road,
Shaped with jagged rocks on a horizontal slope.
A pack of rollin' Doves...
Float in the foreground of skyscrapers kissin' clouds,
Classic mix of concrete and brick style home's...
Blue collar sweat.
Snowy white tears.
The Sixty's...
Stitches of the Second City's rebels with clenched fists,
One glove, fedora, less of a man more of a myth.
Serenading ghosts for respect, understanding, and kindness,
Battling in the name of ideas and understanding's we missed.
For the next generation and our grandkids...
Its used to be about black, white, woman, dreamers...
Defiant to the social wrongs and dreaming civil rights.
Imagine...
Image.
Diminished...
A new brave day in your furthest memories,
Painting a life on the edge where the sun touches the shade...
Hope and you alone.
Tonight traveled to the City by the lake, and
never once was it intended for a new beginning.
Instead, it was closing out The End.
Hi there Fearless Young Boxer,
ReplyDeleteYou have a very powerful blog. Just the side bar alone is enough to get to me (and lately I'v gotten very good at blocking out the harsh but beautiful world). Everything on here is breathtaking!
Keep it up!
Egg Beaten Angel
P.S. I'm following your blog :)