Thoughts Must Retire At Times...

With the wisdom?s truthful grace.

Prolonged oppression must exalt, Not to become chaotic revolt, From time to time one must bite the tongue, Before it bites a piece of old and young.

Silenced vindications arise with the day, Painted in our own colors of dismay, As with each new brush stroke, We dress them with our unique smoke.

Blueness in the sky, glimmer of the sun, At times with sweet words could be done, Yet double-shaded faces of missing hearts, Become nothing more but whispering of arts.

Perplexity becomes a daily fling, Missing each piece of an old string, Pretence seems to be a thing of the new, Friendship survives amongst the chosen few.

Thoughts must withdraw at times, From seasonal eminence and crimes, Pretence of such elusive world, Becomes nothing more but a simple bore.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, In this pretentious world what is a trust, Simple appearances cast many odds, Thus we all get to paint our own facades.