Here stands the green woman tall, in her hand she holds a torch, and in the other a slab. Once did she beckon to those whose lands did outcast them, to come to this new land. Her land.
Now that ideal is but a shattered form of what it once was, For now instead of freedom she calls for order, and instead of liberty she stands for safety of her own.
. Once upon a nighttime dreary, as I web-surfed weak and wherry, Over a many and wondrous sites of shitty memes galore, As I nodded, nearly smacking my head on the desk, there came a little pest, I wiped my screen, I wiped it up clean. But the pest, it so did seem, did not wipe away, 'Tis not possible' I muttered, 'Go the fuck away!'
He was old and I had made peace with that fact some time ago. But no matter how ready you may think you are, when the thing that you've been prepared for happens, its so much more painful then you thought it would be.
But I'm ok. Hes ok.
The world is ok. It will never be the same, but its ok.
To wherever he may be now: be safe, be strong, be happy.
They say that the mind of a child is a beautiful thing. Innocent and creative. Well I like to think that the child's mind doesn't change as we get older, It just gets a few coffee stains. And some people just have a few more stains then others.