Is all you have to write,
Then you’ll be cleansed,
Of all offense,
And Life will feel alright.
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You can’t force
To loveOr enjoyPoetry,But by not,Doing soYou then feelA bit guilty,Knowing allThey are missing,Those gloriousIntense Moments!That like LoveOnly PoetryCan provide.
Magic
Something magic happens,When you write poetically,Doors just seem to open,Spirit, feeling free.Something seems to flower,Inside, poetically,And it makes you happyAnd you are where you have to be.
Lost in loneliness,
You were, after all,My last happiness.So lonely,I look for you,In the star studded sky,Of my Solitude,In the frosted eye,Of the multitude,So unfeeling, so aloof.As the world passes me by,I look for you,Begging for fortitude,As the Doors close,With certitude,Knowing, I have lost you,Forever,And that the only word,That will be whispered to me,By the chilling Winds of…
When a poem
It also brings on,Feelings, ColorsEmotionalPeaks,I don’t thinkThere ever wasAnything thatCould do That,And at the same time,Be, so evocatively,Sweet.
A Poet can see,
Love all that,That cannot be,And still be part of Mystery.
We’re not complete without another,
Loving is giving the other,All the best that we’re made of.