New Poetry Game-Cinquain Chain- Come on, it's easy and fun!

but wail
with mournful cries
crouched in the destruction
of our green world, our blue planet,
our home

Our home
now is threatened—
developers decisions.
They bought the mountaintop. Wasn’t that
enough?.

Enough
isn't the same
to a businessman in
New York and a hungry child in
Darfur

Darfur
is the blood that
runs through your and my veins
when it ought to be spilling out
with theirs

with theirs
I will take mine
and we all have enough
or too much really, but who can
say no

say so
I need to hear
I need to feel your voice
your breath against my neck, your voice
tempts me

tempts me
they do, this tray
of sweet chocolate goodies...
just a pinch....just a taste....just a
dozen

dozen,
a good number,
with some fine Pinot Noir,
maybe melted on strawberries,
dark dove

dark dove
sleeping, waiting,
perhaps dreaming also
of a daybreak that draws upon
mourning

mourning
in a puddle
of decayed emotions
spirit kept alive only through
sheer will

mourning
passing mornings—
missing innocent ones,
prey to those who fear neither God
nor man…

sheer will
is all that stops
me from taking up arms
myself, and striking back, solving
nothing...

nothing
dissolves into
everything, imagines
it could be anything...at least
something

something,
perhaps perfume,
turned my head, it was her;
each heartbeat shook me, my lips burned...
I woke

I woke
but not quickly
it's good to roll and stretch
to tell your blood, let's get going
there's life

there's life
when feeling cuts,
and words slip into wounds
heavy and sensual, love revels
in hurt