Angela Russo

Invisible army heavy laden

Silent voices reaching out

To granite countenance

Unmoved by echoing hearts

Craving golden sunlight of interconnectivity.

Torn in two, daily…

Breathing, blinking, seeking.

Ripples permeate the atmosphere

Falling to the ground.

Flames in the darkness

Burning in the embers,

Smoldering ruins of time gone by.

Echoes of a light dimmed,

Flickering candle gasping for breath

Labyrinth of intricate lines

Twisting turning tangling and tearing

Longing for the intricate web

Of beating breathing Islands

Frozen in the storm

To weave a tapestry of vibrant warmth



Have you ever wanted to do something? I mean really do something... But in a world where the masks we wear are far from tangible, and the concept of compassion is defined by the limits of societal comfort and selfish boundaries — what I’ve learned is that those who care most get to do the least.

To be the least of these is to be a dreamer. A visionary for a better world, but it is a delusion beyond explication. For what is good and right is painted as evil, and what is evil is framed as the ultimate goal. What chance in a world such as this, where freedom of speech is limited to the comfort level of a hypersensitized snowflake nation…what do we have?

Nothing but a dream and a prayer that when we wake up, we will finally be awake.



Angela Russo

Angela Russo

Poet, aspiring writer, passionate advocate for emotional intelligence, avid nerd and Lyme warrior.