Moody, perhaps?
Inspired,
Or in a knot,
To be a poet
Or be not,
Life is too short
To decide,
And love,
Does hide
A lot!
So write your
Rhyme,
And be a poet,
It’s all you’ve
Got.
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There are Times,
Do flow,Sometimes stronger,Sometimes slow,Sometimes passionately so,Sometimes gone, so long agoExplanation?We don’t know.Love,Deep emotion, so insane,Sometimes happy,Sometimes pain,Sometimes all of it in vain,Sometimes with a sudden rain,Love can bloom, be born again,Then all other disappears,Life regains it’s Mystery,And Becomes, just You and Me.
‘Living above the clouds, ‘
Sown together by imagination,No open seams,Constructing a perfect world,Where all get along,Where beauty and love reignFrom an imaginary throne,Certainly a poet’s dreamBut reality never follows,Their idealistic stream,So, therefore, regrettingTo say the truth,I end my silly song,Hoping, I am wrong.
Thoughts that come,
Why they come,We’ll never knowWhat makes you,The one you are?Each a Mystery,Great by far.Therapists,Have tried to help,But even they,Get tangled,In themselves.
Come,
The essence of your mind,Where I will certainly find,A Spiritual Bond, forever.Love isn’t only eyes,The Mind, the Spirit,The union of the Souls,As hands intertwine,This electrifying Feeling is mine,All mine, when we’re together
There is no Past, Present or Future,
In Life’s Lonely Lane
Flowers!
Shapes divine,No living thingHas created,A perfect beautySuch as thine.