Wriiting poetry 201. Day #3. Prompt: trust. Form: acrostic. Device: internal rhyming.
Truth be told, we can mold a new world.
Reason is blinded; our sights are clouded.
Unquestioningly, a burden we bear; of hatred, doubt, war and despair.
Stones of our hearts, can turn the still into ripples,
Trust no human, no sign maybe- trust compassion.