Corporate World

Cold is the world around us, living a line. Drawn out by GOD, or is it the wine? "We make our own fate", I said to the man. Yelling, "I'm goin to be late!", he ran through the land. The busy streaks and bodies of these cold towers, have anyone time for sun flowers? Withering is this life we have, share with love to one another. For these days are our time to play, help your neighbors and your brothers.I kind of made this up as I waited for my 2000 server to load at work, I hope you guys like it. :o) I don't follow the "guidlines" so please try not to "guide rule" this poem. I just write from my heart. It's my first poem here. Thanks Written April 17th, 2002 © on Apr 17 2002 06:24 AM PST   0 • 9