* It was a hard time when I made this poem. I guess we always look for miracles when life seems threatened; so we search for our closest means of faith that embodies our family dogma. Yet we forget that we are the ones doing this to nature, so there is no need of miracles, just a need of consciousness and action…
The sky is baby blue There are twinkling lights in the night As if they were counting Seconds in our lives.
Flowers smell of love Rose’s petals so soft As delicate as is Gives us hope What a sight!
Kids play in the wild As if it were part of their homes Drip drops falling from above The rainy season arrives Giving us water To wash our souls.
There’s pollution in the air Calamities are astray As if they were counting Seconds in our lives.
Manufacturers smell of green They also drain their bane Water-like looks so soft As delicate as is Dear Lord! Cancer! What a sight!
We have stayed in our homes for a while Confined by this covid-19 Drip drops are falling through our skin “End of times” dogma arrives Scaring us, warning us To wash our souls.