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Heart
My heart beats,
yet it knows not how to love,
its rhythmic time speaks,
but not with words of love.
It pound against my chest,
and causes me unrest,
but it knows not how to speak in love.
The 99
Occupy the streets,
“We are the 99%!”
They yell as they march for weeks.
The 1% just sit and laugh,
watching them from overhead.
Their skyscraper buildings loom ominously,
they peer down into the crowd and snatch people up.
People cry and scream,
why dont they leave quickly?
“We are the ninety-nine!”
They yell,
though their numbers fell.
Their battle cry is not in vain,
“Come brothers, come sisters, join in the game.
Fight for ourselves, the ninety-nine unaccounted for.”
So they pick up their pickets,
they join in the cry,
“We are the 99!”
She Walks
She walks along the beach,
each step leaves footprints in the sand,
each movement disrupts the balance below her.
And yet she walks,
it doesn't affect her,
so she walks.
Water laps along the shoreline,
it touches her,
lightly;
softly.
Little waves kiss her feet,
as she walks along the sand.
There is no need
for her to be
disturbed by little wave kisses.
So she walks,
unperturbed by the waves and sand below her.
He Loves Her
He loves her,
you can tell,
does she know?
He looks at her,
her skin as white as snow,
and it is obvious he loves her.
She laughs and clutches his hand in her own;
he looks at her as though she is his home.
She smiles at him,
a twinkling mischief in her eyes,
does she know?
He smiles back,
and pulls her down the lines of the street.
He brings her close;
he closes his eyes.
He loves her,
you can tell.
