Flowers of Dis… Content
by MrDaMan
Virgil R. Hall II (Randy)

Blue skies and clouds of wonder,
floating on the winds of God’s breath.
And man crawls upon the Earth
living in pain while gazing at heaven.

Helpful hands and fists of fury,
mix in the gentle lands and the mean streets.
Oh how we love our children who grow to hate…
Raging in storms of fear and misunderstanding.

We walk with our heads in the clouds
and deny the existence of evil…
As one mans God is another mans devil.
What love is this that hates in his name?

Defined by the choice of our sins.
We are what we do, despite what we say.
Ruled by emotion and fear our hands…
are dirty with the work of civilization.

Our skin is thin and prickles easy,
life’s fury burns more than the sun.
It ain’t the pigment of dark imagination,
it’s the reality of where we’ve been.

Black clouds with hearts of gold,
booming hard edges of thunder.
Nutritious silver linings of hope
but threatening of lightning.

Reigning aggressive upon our world,
seeds of discontent are flowering in the darkness.
Love and hate is a road well traveled.
Do we choose our mean streets?

Are we victims of pre-destiny?
In the fields of our consciousness, of our souls.
We must tend to the beauty or ugliness, our garden,
the seeds… the flowers… the weeds of dis… content.