every once in a while i'll come across a piece of writing I stuck in a random place.

Little bursts of inspiration.

I love reading them, sometimes I wonder if I really wrote them.




I found this today, it needs work, could be good someday.






Blank pages, used up stages
a wordsmith rages, this world's late ages.

A screen goes blank, war machines crank
let me be frank: Our world's last phases.

Presidents lie, innocence dies
Kids won't try: their mind in cages
Mouths left unfed, pumped up with meds

And talking heads in bed
with "they" who love to spread
misinformation and cause for dread.

Nothing is new, no love for you.
Try to grow up without losing your soul.

They'll beat you down, throw you around
Hit the ground, that was their goal

Whats that they said?
"A world left for dead"




What will you say when it's all over?
The magic dies, the teacher cries,
are you glad that you grew older?

A hope is just the start
beaming light, endless dark
Fire won't start without a spark.

You can't be weak when things fall apart