A POEM FOR THE END TIMES

If things don’t seem real, maybe they’re not..
Sometimes you feel you’re a part of a play.. an act.. a movie.. or a stunt. Maybe you are..
Battle bombs an war bonds,
Dirty wars and porn..
The gambling addicts are playing
With the lives of unborn..

We’re all a part of a big grand plan..
But the plan is shrouded in secrecy..

When things seem scary, and you turn to fright,
The solution may be laughing with all your might..

Because power brokers aim to scare,
Battle scars of truth.. they shall wear.

We don’t know the masters, but we sure know the slaves..
We are confused by the aims, which is why we behave..

As the summer wanes and the cold begins,
Think to these days…let’s pray truth wins.

 

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