War, disease, accident, poverty, crime all measured in earthly time
Drugs, abuse, hate and pain all fall in perpetual rain
Broken, torn, shattered, burned lessons too slowly learned
Buried in rot covered in filth to with the rain grow anew when tilth
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Author:
sorenbarrett (
Online)
- Published: July 8th, 2025 03:17
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 66
- Users favorite of this poem: Damaso, Cheeky Missy, Devender Kumar
Comments11
This is quite a list of the darker objects that exist in life and the human condition. It has a powerful effect on the reader.But in all the filth is a re-birth which is Natures way.Excellent insight mi amigo
Thank you David for your insight and kind words they are always appreciated
A sense of out any filth, pain, hurt, destruction there will be an opportunity to regrow and regenerate, that not all hope is lost in the darkness, enjoyed the read
Thank you Tobani for the read and your interpretation as always it is most appreciated
You are very welcome
And sometimes it also seems like a journey in a spin cycle. 🕊️🙏🏻
Indeed the water may remove some of the dirt not stains and the spin cycle takes away the water but a second rinse is coming. Thanks Cryptic for the read and comment it is appreciated
Excellent write
Thanks so much Tony I appreciate it my friend
You're welcome
this has got sorenbarrett DNA running write through it ..
Thanks Neville can't tell ya how good it to hear from you again. I was a bit concerned old man. Appreciate the read and remark.
Good write SB.
Thank you so much Orchi
Your words paint a haunting cycle of suffering and resilience—powerful and raw. A stark reminder of life's relentless storms and the slow growth that follows.
Thank you Mottakeenur for the read and interpretation it is highly valued
a sad but true state of affairs -long for the good old days, when this was not so rampant..
May thay new life be filled with peae and love soren.
Andy
Thank you Andy for your read and always most kind wishes they are appreciated
Soren…this one hits with that heavy, grim rhythm—like boots trudging through the mud of it all. But the last line...that cracked it wide open for me. Rain into tilth—you always know where to plant the hope, even if it comes caked in ash. A well written poem, my friend. 🌹👏
Thank you Tristan your words of encouragement always lift the spirit and inspire further writing. They are most appreciated
You are most welcome, Soren!
The never ending vices and crimes of man whilst sowing the seeds of wrath in filth for the next generation, as with all previous generations. A good and true kick in the stomach poem, to the point with deft pronouncements of raw honesty. Excellent.
All the best,
Tony.
Tony you saw right through this one, a little too transparent I guess. I deeply appreciate your reads and comments almost as much as your poems.
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