“PROMISES”

Blood of a man spills from a wound created,

From a wonderful heart runs blood unseen.

Broken will be our spirits by those we trust,

These are the words of men with no morality.

Promises are made with the slip of a tongue,

Easily spoken from minds without thought.

Hearts and souls, those with no dreams,

They take what they can, from their hands they squeeze.

Promises, promises, words with no character,

From those with no heart, broken, always broken.

Keith Garrett