But for whatever
It’s worth,
I was with myself.
Now,
I don’t have even that,
Uprooted from the house I had
I wander in solitude
Thru the new and small rooms
That I now have,
And I’m sad,
No memories here,
They all stayed,
In the house I had,
And I miss the empty warmth,
Of the house, I had,
To which, I can never go back,
For no one is master,
Of his Past.
Epilogue
When living,
That long lost feeling
You wear a mask,
But it doesn’t help,
To make things
Less painful,
Or erase your past.
And if it’s never burned youThen you haven’t lived,No, you haven’t lived at all.
Exclusively,A human gameFor which no one can trainWhich makes us think seriouslyThat no two of us, are really,Ever, just the same.
Like most Art form.I want to believe,We are moreThan just flesh and bone.But when we seeThe AtrocitiesThat some,So blatantly perform,We ask ourselvesIf we even deserveIn this world,To have been born?
Think about it:Brain Washing,As far as you could see,Censorship, spyingIn the family,No professional choice,No entrance or exit,No Voice!Not one ounce of Liberty.Be very careful,America,And preciously guard,Your priceless treasure,Never stop fighting,For what is right,For yourself,And the rest of the WorldNEVER leave LIBERTY,Out of your sight,Or out of your hands,For those that will Wrong,Every Single Human Right!
I don’t,I don’t care,I don’t dare,Question it,It doesn’t matter,It’s just there,And everywhere,Within me,Inside and out,Free,Consuming,Haunting,Painfully,Passionately,Possessing me,Like in a Dream,I ambulate,Feel my way,Blindly,Thru the Valley of Love.
Essentially Love,With feelings to spare,A love so deep,That it does then dare,Surround the World,With sweetest care.What’s in a poem?The poet’s soul,Imagination, encircles all,Musical tones,A waltz from the heart,Deepest feelings, that don’t depart.What’s in a poem?A micro-world,Of sounds and wonders,Of things unheard,Of thoughts that thunder,And fly like birds!Of feelings turned,Into precious words.EpilogueA poem must never be…
