A poem is what poem is,

It remains a living witness,Of how words can turn to Art.

Loving dreams,Where there to embrace,With loving words,Affection Streams,And Looks so full of grace.Gone are those days,So full, no waste,When Love was such a thrillYour words were mineAnd mine were yours,Our hearts could not be still!But all that’s gone,And all that’s left,Is void that will not fill,I loved you so, so long ago,Perhaps, I Always Will.

A terrible traiteOf envy and hate,Ugly and deeplyDangerous,Leaving scars,Without, exodus.

And for it cry,We must have it,Or we die,Please, oh please,Please, tell me Why?

This lonely feeling,Or send my heart reeling,Into the sky.No, I don’t have wings,But when heaven sings,And I feel your eyes,The very thought of you,Births Spring in my heart,And I’m satisfied.The world then turns radiant and gay,And I will love you more tomorrow,Than I do today.I promise,Come what may.

Feudal lords, is anything different for your serfs?Manipulated and strangulated,The people pay the price,Of the misuse of power,From the lowest hut,To the highest, tower.Will it ever change?