PEACEABLE
Your clever words they make me want to swoon,
each turn arriving at some cunning plan.
With a face that is the pale white moon,
and eyes that droop-oh what a sexy man!
You fight for what your people think is right,
your country's flag you proudly will unfurl.
But for love you will go onto the night,
to woo her-oh, what a lucky girl!
The snow that dances in the wind,
brings you to the place you long to go,
And your peers would think that you had sinned,
if they knew what you found there in the snow.
But alas, your coolness is not here!
You're confined in pages, and are not near!
Left for dead, these pages wilt and weep,
with forgotten memories left alone.
These thoughts that were meant to always keep,
but are lost, and so they cry and moan.
Metal twisted, paper crisp and clean,
where neglect has left them quite unused.
Once where ideas and thoughts were seen,
and fancies, sadness, laughter were amused.
Broken trees went onto making this,
their sap ran over, bleeding from the wound.
And now, such waste, a momentary bliss,
this tired, old used thing that is now doomed.
Once is was so shiny and so new,
now lies in tatters, the cover a slightly faded blue.