So many things,
That don’t come back,
All effort gone,
In Life itself,
As Time slides off,
A hidden shelf,
And all’s not well,
In Fairyland,
For those who,
In a poem dwell,
Thinking that time,
Can be pulled back,
And will some how,
Forget to act.
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Can you think you know someone,
For, you have never met?Can your intuitionFeel the truth about themOr is it just an imaginary guess?These questions are left unansweredFor even though, I think I know you,All I have to go byAre your written words,And words can play games,No one ever imagined,Could be played,Or even heard…..? ? ?
In the Mad-Poetic world,
Was a Poet never heard,For it never was his hour.He had gone and warned the World,Of impending, danger, power,But the people kept on dancing,Just like fools, around his tower.Poets, Idealists and Lovers,This old World has never changed,Poets, stay in Ivory TowerAnd pretend you are deranged.
From Love to Hate,
Love can quickly turn to Hate,When felt it was just a mistake.
Anytime or place
Full of grace,Inundates, the space,Of Love’s tender,Projection.Affection,Sets a paceOf delicate embraceThat may secretly advocateLove’s coming,Inspiration,Sweet temptation.
Such Passion,
This Love,Revolutionary!Is more than,One humanly can bear.To ignite such a flame,Is no simplistic game,You need rivers,Gushing into oceans,The Universe,Bursting into flame,You and me together,As one and the same.
Citizens,
Swimming in pools of deception,Not One word is True,In the political stewOf, deceitful indigestion.