Simplicity

I need no inspiration
to speak such simplicity,
when one has no boundaries
there are such possibilities.

Wind flows freely,
as the sun does burn,
water runs swiftly,
as one does urn.

The dust of the past
settles on the windowsill,
as the tears of history
dry upon the panes of time.

As our emotions flourish,
and regrets are remembered,
anger and such temper
ellapse into such discomfort.

Painful memories draw
such depression,
tears roll down the cheek
of the once forgotten one.

A veil of confusion
drapes upon the soul of one,
a fog of illusion hides
the eyes that show such pain.

The lips that tremble
speak nothing of the present,
the history is all that passes
off the pale soft tongue.

The ghosts of our past
haunt us with misery,
but the friends of our future
caress us with their sweet embrace.

Violence and distortion
corrupt the youth of today,
while the the men of our fathers
silently weep for what has to come.

I need no inspiration
to speak such simplicity,
when one has no boundaries
there are such possibilities.

-If only it wasn't so true...