Poetry, is essence, Perfume,
Concentrated, delight
That tries to reach the roots
And know, all that there is to know
About the Tree of Life.
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Today,
Of what is lostAnd cannot be recovered,Or turned back.Let’s not liveFrom regretsOf what could have beenBut never was.Go out and fight,Go and fulfillYour destiny!Do what you loveIn goodness,Inspire,Be it thru Poetry.Or taking inventory ofAll there is to followLove and admire,In this generous,Gorgeous PlanetDon’t make lifeOne big uselessMistake, regret.We only live once,And Time does notReturn or…
A poem
It’s verses soft petals,Looking for more room,Blooming notions,Thoughts that settle,And express,The heart’s own tune,In full bloom,Reaching for the moon.
The dismembered hands of Time,
They take our lives away,Make us old and feeble, on the wayI hate Time!I don’t know how to keep it,Sweep it or beat it!So I disregard itBut its always there,Counting the minutes,In its lair.
Love is the best
Lets not assassinate it,Like everything else,We touch.
You linger on,
A shattered dream,Like an autumn leaf.That will not die,Like my very shadow,That cannot cry,And even though I try,I can’t forget you,Why? Why? Why?
Poetry is,
Of the essential,The very fundamental,The exquisitely monumental,The Secrets in a kiss.