White light of Moon, emotion,
A love has just begun!
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A poem wants to be,
That together stick,Not just some candle,Without a wick.A poem wants to be,True spiritual form,Words that blend, not monotone,Language, feelings and the soul,Open eyes that know no ceiling,Words that are, you’re very own,That you want someone to read,Hoping, they will make them strong,Holding out your heart in hand,Singing Life’s perpetual song,Feelings shared in unison,Words that say,…
UNBELIEVABLE!
Weaves its webs,And traps its Fools,Around spinning spools.
Sometimes, one writes
Without fully knowingWhat is happening,Like with LoveYou feel it in your heartBut there is no explanationFor this most wonderfulMany times, painfulOut of reach,Impossible loveSensation.Poetry you can grasp,But love, sometimesIs much more a typeOf unattainably sad,Hallucination.
How do you play
Tears are liquid pain,Not always seen,Emptiness, a phase,That’s harsh and lean,Lost in space,Hardly any light,Left to redeem.How do you play,Depression’s scene?You look at the Sea,Hoping for a dream.
These days,
Recycle most everything,Except politicians,Who certainly should beAfter all their dishonest actionsAnd their ill played renditions.
Maybe,
Sometimes like a religion can,But poetry’s prayers are better,Because they include every man.