Thus writer of these words
forever mus lee experiencing
craving to eat cheese,
a milk product
eternally preserved within
annals, chronicles, epistles,
et cetera of human civilization
and it's discontents
analogous viz ode (old)
as time itself and lustressly
buttressed on a Grecian Ode frieze
linkedin to Sosibios Vase inductees.

I'd like to announce that I have published my first novel, The Price of Justice, and it is now available for pre-order on Amazon and KPD for only $4.99!

If you have any questions or would like me to supply more information, please feel free to contact me! Find more information at TheSPryor on Writco, ShelbyGPryor on Tumblr, and TikTok @Morgan280624. Please don't hesitate to dm me for more information.

"The Price of Justice description."

THE REAL WORLD OUTSIDE

Alone at this old desk, gazing out
From inside this empty classroom
Looking at the world denied to me
Through that smeary window I see
Living a life where I could be free
But in here it feels just like a tomb
Out of touch, and no rules to flout

Bubbling births, beaming beauties,
Lovely lads, lively,lustre
A fortress overt in splendor, nature's bloom,
Overflowing, sharing its goodness to many places,
"Let there be light" and everything was good,
Life transcends into rest when there's peace,
Favour runs far when lines are in pleasant places.

Scarcely few remember
Those horrifying scenes
The six o'clock news
Broadcast in our living rooms
The horror of it all
Blood drenched stretchers
Million mile stares
The terror in their eyes
A war long gone by
Brought to us in living color
War had seemed so remote
Fought in faraway places
Until a place far away
Called the Nam
Body counts on the news
Fathers, sons, and brothers
Lovers, husbands, friends
Never to come home
Names carved deep upon the wall

Once I sat through the lonely noon,
Away, meditating lessons, breathing through life,
What's there to live, to love, cherish mildly?
Will goodness finally conquer the grip of evil,
What will be the end when all ends?

Once I sat through the lonely noon,
Away, meditating lessons, breathing through life,
What's there to live, to love, cherish mildly?
Will goodness finally conquer the grip of evil,
What will be the end when all ends?

Continental drift spelled birth
once spelled Pangaea,
in early geologic time,
a supercontinent that incorporated
almost all the landmasses on Earth.

While rifling through mine
treasure trove of poems,
yours truly chanced upon
satisfactorily worded
geological event
where plate tectonics wrought
subterranean violent transformation
about a half dozen years ago.

I'm sure it's every parents dream
If it could be fulfilled,
To have a child like my son
Any parent would be thrilled.

A little boy my gift, my hope
Did I know how to show the way?
I really knew so very little
But perhaps I'd learn someday.

I dreamed about the plans I had
Could I show him the way to go?
Would my love and family values
Teach the things he'd need to know?

One day you'll be alone. We'll all be alone.