Tuesday, February 21, 2012

better things to do

When we squeeze tight our eyes,
and scream into black skies,
do the gods hear our cries,
do they care for our lives?

Or do they just wish,
to dispel the myth,
that all our petty problems,
are all they have to deal with.

The irony of the title is meant for the poem, not for my lack of posting~ :] I haven't been on much lately.  What can I say?  I'm getting reacquainted with life.

I still love you all and will probably be on more often as things start to fall back into routine.

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poems and thoughts by E.A. Skanchy is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License