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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365442" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Orchestral Proportions</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Generation subsequent, momentum gallops, <br>Running freely awesome natures rides.<br>As the wild hunt frolics in the sky. <br>Politicians in unison must recognise<br>That which the people keep well disguised.<br>Hidden from the view of pigsty atrocities stewing, <br>Boiling, frothing forth a flock of birds<br>As they tweet in twee harmonies<br>Of orchestral proportions unheard.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Sky pale blue and bluer still<br>The Lovers locked upon the hill, <br>As we question what it is to love, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">What it is to be free in a society that<br>Feeds you your history the way they would have it, <br>They way they read it through tainted eyes of bias magnitudes, <br>All to feed an attitude of hatred for their brother, <br>Each black ribbon sister in distress.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Confessions uttered through pain of inescapable agony, <br>Confessions granted under duress.<br>Messy scenes the mob obscene is outside the courtroom waiting.<br>Chained to the railings, Freedoms voice is heard through a thousand violent shades, <br>Fading, jaded, barely recognisable above the din, drowning in the white.<br>Drowning out of sight.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How can we trust a law that is no law unto itself? <br>How can we know who we are if we are to place<br>Individuality upon the shelf? As we are adorned as one in many, <br>Within uniform conformity as its rages upon the souls of the young, <br>The teachers say it’s better as you can’t rich from poor<br>Yet to be poor it is no illness and to be rich there is no cure.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">How can we come to trust a heaven that will allow you to<br>Buy your time from hells despite? How can we trust a church<br>That would have you blinded from the light? <br>Mumbled under wings of fire angelic confessions due, <br>How can we trust a bird when 2000 years ago he flew? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I feel sorry for the bird, for the littlest of lambs, <br>Sacrificed for the sins of man when no sin had found its manifestation<br>From his hand. All that’s wrong has been done in his name, <br>The littlest of lambs, his memory shamed, <br>By the blood of every man that kills with him in heart, <br>Shamed into slavery to bear the bitter cup of injustice, <br>Done in the name of his own father from whom he<br>Never should have parted.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=David+Lacey">David Lacey</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365442" data-title="Orchestral Proportions de David Lacey" data-description="Generation subsequent, momentum gallops, 
Running freely awesome natures rides.
As the wild hunt frolics in the sky. 
Politicians in unison must recognise
That which the people keep well disguised.
Hidden from the view of pigsty atrocities stewing..."></div>
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