Poem for dismay at what appears to have been stolen 

Whats’s Stolen was Golden 

Stolen 
What appears to be golden 
Golden leaves 
Some believe fall from trees 

There’s no law in their world 
Their virtues were perhaps hurled 
When they received crime 
That damaged their minds 

Where are the boundries we seek 
To stop those who steal from the meek 
Is this just an idea 
Or is it a concept that should be made clear 

Where are the holes in our walls 
Where are we not standing tall ?
Where have we thrown parts of us away ? 
Where do we feel dismay ? 

Sometimes our empathy creeps 
Drives us to feel desperately weak 
Grief showcases our loss 
Parts of us covered in frost 

Somestimes it pays to look through diamond eyes 
To see though those who sugarcoat lies 
To feel deep deep within 
And find laughter in what appears to be grim 

Writen by Zoe LL

I’m Zoe Langman, a 45-year-old welsh Nomad. On December 19th, 2017, I packed up my flat, put all my essentials into a suitcase, and started my Nomadic Journey. I don't think it's ever too late to reinvent or redesign your life.

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