Thermodynamics

Thermodynamics

A Poem by QuietSeer

Like boiling water,
we all have our place.
To go against the grain,
means begging to be slain.

How ironic our pillars,
are the ones to carry all.
When the peak, infact,
is the one to see it all.

The poor remain poor,
and the rich remain rich.
For the people play their part,
as the heat will reach its peak.

The coldest of the cold,
will wither in the sand.
The hottest of the hot,
will bask in total bliss.

But joy comes to the cold,
and solitude to hot.
For no amount of curency,
can compensate for love.

Like boiling water,
we all have out place.
To go against the grain,
means begging to be slain.

© 2016 QuietSeer


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Reviews

Very nice, a deep understanding of our situation....

Posted 4 Years Ago


QuietSeer

4 Years Ago

Thank you Crystalmuse (Cool name btw) I've been so out of writing, its going to take a few "really" .. read more
Crystalmuse

4 Years Ago

Same here!

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1 Review
Added on July 12, 2016
Last Updated on July 12, 2016

Author

QuietSeer
QuietSeer

Writing
Lynn Lynn

A Poem by QuietSeer