Art just as Poetry,

With their toys,Except from True Love,The greatest of all joys.

And something must be doneNOW! ! !The US,A violent CountryThat has gone,Too far in lettingInsane savages,KillIncredible amounts,Of Innocents!Time to stop It!Or we will be leftWith too many empty hearts and homesWhose doors have been left, painfully ajarAnd whose wounds shall never heal,That’s how deep and painfulThey Really ARE!

The wealth of imagination,The love for people of every nation,Humanity’s elevation.Born from the wind of inspiration,Their poetry carries sensations,Feeling that Life is so preciousA miraculous flower, it is,To be blessed and respected,With all the Love that exists.Once a poet, always a poet,For they dream like nobody else,Of cream covered mountains,Of oceans of Freedom,Of Love gushing…

Than I think,I know you’re there,I can feel your presence,Everywhere,In the rose that has not bloomed,In the blue shaded lagoon,In the silent, lit up Moon,In the Sea in full despair,In the waves that go no where,In the Earth’s eternal call,In the Love that conquers All,In each molecule of air,In my Soul,And Everywhere

But I’m strange too.Two Strangers,Loving from afar,Dreaming Of,A reachless, Star.

As well as fromMake believe scenes,On the sounding screensAnd finally,Most of our analysesAre worthless,For nothing really isAs it seems,And nobody says,What they really mean.