Senses

I think we must be blind

We don’t see the world as others do

We see conflict, suffering

I think we must be deaf

We don’t hear the world as others do

We hear cries for help, pleas

I think we must be voiceless

Our voices are unheard

We shout but are just whisper

Maybe we are in a dream

But soon will wake

And all will be as it should be

Peace, harmony and joy will prevail

My Poetry

Simple Pilgrim View All →

Once Lost in Nowhere, then Perditus

Now just a Simple Pilgrim

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