Perpetuating hatred-- It's happening every day, While many who contribute Would be the first to say, "Don't call me a bigot. I'm broadminded as can be. It's just that I don't believe In a mixed society."
So deeply has this poison spread. The roots have long been buried. Still, in a small child's fertile mind Some seeds will still be carried. If they have heard somebody Speak out with great contempt About a colour or a race, Then hatred will ferment.
It later will flourish If no one interferes. Racial slurs and epitaphs Will frequently appear. There is an old Indian quotation, One that clearly speaks. "Don't judge a person 'til you have walked In his moccasins many weeks."
There is no person living today Who wouldn't somewhere be an outcast. If everyone would just remember that, We might have peace at last.
How beautiful is a gift Delicately wrapped in paper and used to uplift, All the sorrows of life momentarily, It is as is Somebody has temporarily stopped time, And has blown the wind chimes Slowly evoking curiosity
A gift is more than a tangible item that holds A little something Of love, respect and lots of surprise to behold And one such gift is given by our Lord,
This gift seems a kiss of poison and turns out to be the medicine of your soul, Little do you know, you have all that takes to get to your goals, You are hidden in millions of smiles when you help them win, You are the reason that people's smile turns into a grin, And when you lose may there always be a gentle hand That caresses you when your life is as rough as sand
@writersbay I'm not sure if this is compliant with today's prompt, but I squeezed in a lot of definitions ________________________________________________
DEFINITIONS OF HOPE
As the light begins to burn in a turbulent sea of tears
Drowning the harsh heartbreak, quenching the fears
Turning blind eyes to the cold hearted world's jeers
Hope is a thousand star bursts, in fate lines that rear
A fire unfurling in glory like a proud phoenix reborn
No ashes, no blood, of the heart that was just torn
Dead wounds turned to scars that refuse to mourn
Hope sheds the black veils, from a mourner's dawn
For each heart that is broken, for each painful goodbye
There's new love to be found in the boundless sky
Each farewell is the prelude, to a new "hello" or "hi"
Hope is the reincarnation of yesterday's stricken sigh
A haunted man stares at the hempen noose he ties
High on his sorrows and craving the river lethe's lies
Suddenly, he sees an angel with his dead mother's eyes
Hope is salvation, beating death's blood curdling cries
When earth is scarred from all the wars that we waged
Battered and barren from the all the bullets that raged
Lives turned to smoke from a putrid plague uncaged
Hope is a new story, waiting breathlessly to be paged
Two lost lovers meet after a thousand yearned years
Separated by a gulf of cruel expectations and leers
Yet, their eyes catch on each other, their gazes sear
Hope is the flush warmth that kisses dry their tears
Hope is a strange thing, a marvel hidden from sight
A lone candle that burns through the endless night
Transcending shackles of definitions, black and white
Dear friend, hope springs eternal, in darkness and light