Community Poems – Please share your poems › Rolling Hills
In a new light,
An old age is covered.
Where red scars pooled in desperate valleys,
Green shadows now hide the potential for growth.
No system protects the weak,
But every system expects some weakness.
It is okay to grace this land with our death,
But gracing our grave with our life is often unasked.
Live deeply, underground.
Be the food for a shadowy crowd.
In the tranquil changing of the seasons,
Life and death will switch places.
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