The verses grow
Ideas appear,
And feelings flow
From secret sparks
Deep in your heart,
The poem starts
To take its shape,
The poet knows
There’s no escape,
The birth is near
Can’t be refrained,
Freeing the poem,
The poem free
Just Joy remains.
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I sat on an empty rock,
Believe it or not,The Rain flows thru my fingers,Producing pain.All my life,Things have been the same,Illusions that fly,Never reaching the sky.In the rain, I cry,Asking why?Ideals,Were a steal,When the Horse of Troy appeared,When’La Grande Illusion’ andJean Renoir gave it a try,On the World War sky,When the gods still magnified,Their power over mankind,And said things would…
Poet Fools,
But in Real world,It’s War and Grease,So few attempts,To harmonize,Instead we’d rather,Paralyze,The Planet, Moon,The Ocean, fair,Because so Few,Do really Care!
Everybody’s got a Gimmick,
Round and Round, and Round we go,Where Spin Stops we never know!
Sometimes good things happen,
Then kindness is sometimes found,In a smile, extended hand.We need to show more feeling,Love Unbound.
We have so advanced medically
But the greatest mystery of all,Still remains being, Us!Our perplexing being,Neither good nor fully bad,Yet, always treacherously clad,In many shadows dressed,Always looking, thus,For someone to oppress,So, caution watch out,It’s US!
Odd profession,
And never thinkThat we don’tKnown it.And yet,Our DestinyWe cannot escapeA poet’s worldIs his worded cape.