That together stick,
Not just some candle,
Without a wick.
A poem wants to be,
True spiritual form,
Words that blend, not monotone,
Language, feelings and the soul,
Open eyes that know no ceiling,
Words that are, you’re very own,
That you want someone to read,
Hoping, they will make them strong,
Holding out your heart in hand,
Singing Life’s perpetual song,
Feelings shared in unison,
Words that say, ‘You’re not alone’.
For which, You only hold the keyWhen you are writing poetry.
And pure Love, romanticThat’s ever fulfilling.
Our Lives are like raindrops in the Past,That disappear and won’t come back.Only Love Saves, till the bitter end,To Love and be Loved what more can there be?To Love and be Loved is pure ecstasy,A life fulfilled, Romantically.
That with their ‘savoir faire’Helped build this Country’s dome,A place that all Americans,So proudly called their home.Where are the men of honest heart?Whose love for country shone,And worked to achieve the betterment,For All, not just their own.Where are the men who would not take,Dictatorship of one?Who would not speak with lying words,Nor sly and twisted…
Give you a sensation,That by the Soul is heard.Music, Words and Soul,Equal PoetryComplicated?Not at all.
As long as they buyYour product,They do, they do!Hey, youYou’re foolingWHO?
