Steve Knutson@sknutson

The winds of change blow its chilled air
upon the dying summer’s night
signally to all that soon the endless warmth
will be no more
Try though you may
there is no getting away from the reality
of this is never going to be just another day
and you ask

What Time Is It

A man sit in a cell all alone
for the sinful crime of having taking
the life of something that was not his own
He looks at the wall to that empty space
where once rest life’s clock
still he hears the endless tick tock
and he ask

What Time Is It

A mother sits at home alone
in a darkened room
trying desperately to rationalized
with her now darkened womb
how could such joy at birth
now be the anguish of so many
wishing her gift of life
never was
and she ask

What Time Is It

Today I asked a man arguing
for the rights of God’s chosen
a thousand mile in the distance
and so I asked
Have you ever spoken to a single
member of God’s broken
just at your feet on the side of every street
and before all you self righteous
pull out your bibles
I must ask does anyone know

What Time Is It

“’’How very quickly we cry to rescue
the lost souls in foreign lands
yet so easily walk over the souls at
our feet
willfully blinded to the misery in our streets
we’d rather demonize God’s broken
than a peaceful word spoken”’’

What Time Is It

Refusing to shake hands
with our fellow man
all because of man-made viruses
no longer the deepened fear of
terrorist causes
we have built our wall after all
sadly nothing upon which to stand tall
it’s clear despite our political
man-made fears
death makes equal room in the
morgue’s stalls
and God ask

What Time Is It

@Anthony2020mdh30Vibes

Choose Living Over Existing(CLOE)Gender Free Writer(GFW), MartialArts-Auth"The Spirit That Guides Us" "Noir AM""The Lottery" https://twitter.com/dropoutgorgeous

Choose Living Over Existing(CLOE)Gender Free Writer(GFW), MartialArts-Auth"The Spirit That Guides Us" "Noir AM""The Lottery" https://twitter.com/dropoutgorgeous