Sometimes like cities in the Sky,
They just float by,
Other times from white to gray,
They let the Tempest, rain away,
Always entertaining,
Never dull, never returning,
In same shape or form,
For the Way of Clouds,
There is no norm.
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A time to live
What better couldOur fleeting days,Expect to beMade of,For without loveLife can’t exist,At least for someThat’s how it is.
Something to love
Sweetly desireAnd love,There isn’t much leftBetter still,Is there anything leftClean, good to desire?We live in a WorldOf ugliness, moral theft,And destructive, FireWhere robbers are heroesMoral rape, we accept,Where sanity and beautyAre spat upon and mocked,Where to go?When all decency seemsTo be gone,And all sensitivity,Crushed and shocked,Devastatingly, blocked!Lost amongst the screamsOf a deadly, choir.
Want, with moderation,
Prepare yourself for LifeBecause finally,The only one that you canReally count on,Will probably be,You.Remember thatThat ‘No one is better servedThan by oneself’,Says an old French sayingSo, take good careAnd do the right thingYou can much gain,Without losing,Anything.
Sanity!
All seems to crumbleTo be falling apart!What is,Should not beAnd what shouldn’t,Seems sustainedBy strange, almostInhuman noises,Gaining groundStifling,Positive sound.As the waters of sanity,Evaporate and narrow‘Twenty First Century! ‘Are you our nightmareOur worst case scenario?Where all seems futileWhere beauty fumblesMortally wounded,By indifference,And sorrow?Sometimes,I feel as thoughWe’re swimmingIn an Aquarium,Long, dark and narrowWith our humanity wilted,Our brains tiltedAnd…
Actually,
What can you changeWith a Rhyme?But since Time,Means nothing to me,I shall waste of itAs much as I want,Writing Poetry.
I wonder if an Author of a play,
While writing what they say?Becomes all his Characters created,Come what may?What a beautiful, full Life!In every way.