What better could
Our fleeting days,
Expect to be
Made of,
For without love
Life can’t exist,
At least for some
That’s how it is.
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It’s so unfair, isn’t it?
So many times are put aside,Not understood, told to beware,And said to be unfit,To guide, to give, to shareWhile demons in waitingWith forked tongue,Are allowed to skin us, bare.
Love Hurts,
Not always receiving,But without it,Living is not living,For loving is giving,The most precious gift,That you can give,And the most fulfilling.
Poems are
With yourselfAnd others,What more beautifulOr better meansof CommunicationBetween life’s lovers.
Love’s
Luminosity,Burning fire,That can neverBe put outWhen it’s real,And without doubtThat is whyA Life without itCan be only, half a lifeOnly Love can give usMeaning,Only Love can give usMight,To affront all Life’sMisgivingsAs long as,We have love’s light.
In search of beauty,
But it doesn’t matterBeauty, rewards all.In search of loveWe spend most of our livesIf not found,Total emptiness bleeds,Thru thousands of knives
Nothing is beautiful anymore,
Nor man, nor beast, nor art,Is our frail humanity,Finally falling apart?Or did ugliness always reign?Among the slightly civilized,Now turned totally insane.