Drip of perspiration

Falling freely

Down a glass of coffee

Rich brown darkness and caramel

As the ice cubes are floating

Resembling icebergs

During hot summers

When aesthetics were important

The beach was the office

How it reminds me

Memories in each serving

As the sugar goes in

Shooting stars shining on the top

Before they vanish

A sweet kick to add to the vibe

Caffeine was my ride or die

During the months of June and July.

Speculations whisper, her smile of fire,

Obtaining whatever and whoever she wants,

Like a siren luring in sailors to their demise,

Her heart sharper than a throwing star,

An air of uncertainty surrounds her,

Like she's not human,

Men are smitten for this woman,

Hearing the sweetness of her tone,

But not the harshness of her words,

The act is hard to not fall for,

One truth and two lies,

She has no origin,

Her only purpose,

To deceive.

Millions of versions of verses that came before,

In different faces and forms

Athenians, Egyptians, Mayans, Aztecs, and so on

The word of creativity lives through us all,

Us writers: the bastions of literature,

Storytellers of history and the heartbeat of the industry

The words that fall into our minds like stars

An instruction from the universe

Idiots can try to erase us but they will never destroy

the power of honesty and imagination

There will be more incarnations of us

Creating fictional worlds throughout time

The only certainty, in a world of instability,

Is that we are writers, and we will continue our journey

In this life and every other

We create forever,

In the syllables of our words.

Rewriting books as if they are heinous,

Yet the people calling for this are all about acceptance,

Unless it goes against what they want to see,

How is James And The Giant Peach,

Or a story about a poor kid achieving greatness,

Offensive?

How are these bad stories?

When they teach people about values and morality,

A reflection of the era they were written in,

We can't change history because we don't like it,

Books are the same,

Authors deserve to have their work read as intended

Not erased,

Just because there are people that don't like it,

Doesn't mean that a story should be changed

Common sense needs to come into play,

Don't burn books, don't rewrite them,

Just accept the fact that it isn't for you,

Instead of trying to virtue signal dead people,

Find a different book to read

And get some therapy too.

Lawlessness started to intrude on every part of life

We had to get up and do it ourselves

To stop these streets descending into flames

The drugs, the death, and the pain,

We couldn't let this parade of insanity,

Rain for any longer,

Picking up our weapons we became the enforcement,

Green bandanas on our faces to protect us,

From the smoke engulfing the oxygen,

As we kick, drag, and clean up the mess,

That our leaders let explode onto these streets,

"Bang!" The bullets fired at us,

But we kicked his ass and kept on moving,

Because we are the authority,

No drugs, no fights, no stealing or crime,

Like the blue angels we operate as a squadron,

To protect innocent people from the entropy,

New York City went through the same,

In the eighties but it was the guardian angels back then

We are no angels jut vigilantes,

Enforcing the law,

As we take back these streets from the criminals,

And hoodlums trying to create anarchy.

Quiet/ Silence/ Closed Curtains/

East Palestine deserves more than to be glossed over,

By the talking heads we call the news outlets,

People are being poisoned by the water and air,

How is that not a disaster?

They can give money to other causes,

But not accidents like this,

Chickens are dead, people are getting rashes,

Oil is forming rainbows on streams,

Animals all over Ohio are dying,

Bloody flames burning waste into the sky,

People are exposed to carcinogens,

Crash! Another horse has fallen,

Because the poor creatures lungs are corroded with gunk,

Whilst TVs are turning off,

Because real problems are not considered important,

Unless it happens to someone who is famous,

A blackout on information,

Pretending that it didn't happen,

Whilst in real life,

Innocent people are suffering

Without answers.