War is a loud thing, Full of bluster and rumble; Peace is a whisper. Taken in by fear, Our most precious gift withers On a vine of lies. How dare you fail to ask if there is something more We can dream about? Who told you that it was fine
Only the People Give the Power; Only the Light can cast shadow.
For the Workers: Heroes, all!
United we stand, With blood on our hands, From having our sticky fingers in the pots of too many lands. This rogue superpower grows more audacious by the hour. We've been uprooting plants when we *shoulda been* planting flowers. For the honor and the glory of the pages
Pardon me, Ms. Parton, Just a moment of your time, You see, you've always set me right With just some rhythm and a rhyme. I was hoping we could ask of you, So benevolent and wise, If you could read us one more tune To unite us, under
On fandom and freedom.
This is Verses Versus, by Annabelle Sunday. These are my poems, my children that I'm sending into the world, to try and make it better. There's just a few for now, but you can subscribe in the meantime if you'd like to stay up