Have fatal
Repercussions
For them?
Lets hope and pray,
They do!
For if not
This Country
Will certainly
Be going to pot.
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What happened to us?
There was a timeWhen we were wine and roses,But, so many times, with timeAll decomposes,We take things apart,We take ourselves apartWe look for troubleAnd we get it,Never satisfied, Never smartAnd so go so many loves,That perhaps were doomed,From the very start.
I never give up,
Can’t understand,Being sly,Love thru Poetry,Is well worth a try.
When we love, we spread Love,
Oh, would that there were a World,Of only Love, and not hate.
When you see,
In the human being,The treacherous duplicityThat assaults you,And othersBut that they hideBehind masks,Of treacherous political tideYou want to run away!Call it quits,Lock all doors,Whisper, HideLook for a dark roomIn which to slide,And give up the ride.But then! You realizeThat there is still PoetryAnd you run to the windowTo let in the light,To hold hands with…
I hear the music in verse,
With its notes, the music of language,Drills deep, knows no fences,Senses, the lingering mystery,Behind all creative lenses.Oh Language, Oh Language,Oh Poetry, Oh Music!I never tire of your consequences,Forever surprising and thrilling,Our most sensitive nerve endings.
What makes a poet want to write?
Made out of flowers that may bloom,Somewhere in someone’s hidden room,Bringing some light,To Life’s gray gloom.Poetry seems to be so right,To shed a tear,Or smile a smile,While chasing Moonlight,For a while.That’s why a poet has to write,Hoping one day to set things right.