This Poem was Submitted By: Gene Dixon On Date: 2002-03-19 16:06:46 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Apocalypse Now, Film At Eleven

Do you sigh at the sight of a mother who weeps over children whose lives are unwound? Have you prayed at the wall with a father who keeps his heart and his soul underground? When lost in the thought of an endless blue sky, does it seem as though time lost it's grip? Has your vision been blurred by the dust in your eye? Are you sure that the cup touched your lip? Along an old road, paved with wet stones, walks a man with his arms full of sun. The strangers he meets offer their bones but he says there is more to be won. As he walks down that road, his eyes on the sky, the shadow he casts is quite long and nobody knows, as he passes by, that he'll purchase their lives for a song. The gate to the light has been guarded by fools who stand on the souls of their friends. They never accept the most obvious rules but are moved by the impact of trends.

Copyright © March 2002 Gene Dixon


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