On a Foggy Day You Can See the War
Is it the fog or is it just the steam
That's rising from Italian coffee cups?
Today I wonder if the sunlight beam
Was ever cherished by the grownups.
The fog makes blurry things that once were clear
And make us doubt in clarity of mind
Of humans who left sunlight way behind,
Replacing emptiness of heart with fear.
On foggy day you spot the silhouettes
Of ones you love, though they are far away
And that reminds you how sunbeam reflects
In loving eyes. Thus, silently you pray
That this damn fog will dissipate one day.
Especially in the heads of those
Who mistook thistle for some kind of rose.
Kind wind will blow away the nasty fog,
For kindness is the strongest driving force
That powers sun and every mind agog
In never-ending quest to find its source.
And loving eyes will sit with you on day off
On some Italian piazza in the sun
And there'll be nothing more to be afraid of
But maybe pizza slightly overdone.
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