One,
With which
Most pain appears,
The loneliest,
Tear of all,
All love
Suddenly gone,
The Sun,
That sears
No longer can
Absorb,
The loneliest
Of tears.
The Saddest tear!
The one you cry
When desperate
And all alone,
The saddest one
Of all,
When love,
Has disappeared
And life no longer
Has the strength,
To smile
And be reborn…
Understanding, faith and love,That’s what poems are made of.
Cords on a StradivariusViolin,Only the finest,Sentiments,Between usThat’s what realFriendship,Is.
Reach the Soul and there do rest,This is Poetry at it’s best!
That become aliveAnd in us thrive.The tones, the intentThe surrounding scentOf certain words,Can be so thrilling,Even fulfillingEmbracing all,Large and smallAt certain times.Poets, WritersKnow this wellAnd with certainWords and thoughts,Can inject a livelyFeelingThat sometimes can beSweet healing,As their webOf worded feelingsFills in many,A life’s loss.
All of Life’s secretes,Just through their eyes.Poets are different,Planets apart,Ever so lonely,Right from the start.
Tears are liquid pain,Not always seen,Emptiness, a phase,That’s harsh and lean,Lost in space,Hardly any light,Left to redeem.How do you play,Depression’s scene?You look at the Sea,Hoping for a dream.
