People starving everywhere.
Aging men lose their hair.
Bolemic bodies barely there.
But what can be done?
Little mistakes make large error.
Somehow things end out better.
There's no use in feeling terror.
So what needs to be done?
For there is rhyme in each season.
Shifty tides always have reason.
Luckily loyalty outweighs the treason.
So I try to just have fun.
**I'm selfish and I usually keep my poetry pretty personal, but I was inspired by Flamefish to share some of my schtuff, so enjoy it if you can.