Before I realize it I will be old.
Until then, I’ll continue my delusion,
That all I put my hands on turns to gold.

Not that I am speaking of glittering confusion.
Rather, an understanding of a thought so far fetched;
It unfetters humanity from economic institution.

Giving us reason to hold our hands outstretched
Without fear that helping someone has a price.
Trading greed for value so peace may be etched
Into the stone of our magnificent edifice.
When looking back upon ‘our history’ of OUR time,
I hope our children’s children realize some were nice.

That we cared to acknowledge the sublime
Utilizing the innate skills from both heart and mind;
Uniting our souls through harmony and rhyme.

By: Charles Poore

Published by

The White Raven

Writer, author, philosopher, philanthropist, poet, imbecile, denizen gypsy. A rare bird of sorts is what you'll come to think of me. I love to write, play, and work diligently to prove one day fiction will become a reality. I'm very simple when it comes to my views on life, a backpack is ideally my best friend and I found my mistress with paper and pen.

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