Piece of paper,
I will try
To give back,
As literary lover,
Much more,
Than I’ve taken
Simply loving,
Poetry’s,
Living act,
In the theater
Of words
That so express
Feelings,
Better than all
Other things
Ever heard.
Piece of paper,
I will try
To give back,
As literary lover,
Much more,
Than I’ve taken
Simply loving,
Poetry’s,
Living act,
In the theater
Of words
That so express
Feelings,
Better than all
Other things
Ever heard.
What I don’t know,First I investigateThen, once I knowWatch out,Full Force,I let go!
Even sometimes roar,But what a poem must Always be,Is truthful to Itself,Poetry cannot harbor Hypocrisy.
It does consumeBut never wrongI love you nowLike in the past,A love so deep,Can only last.
That brings, such peaceSuch equanimity,The mind does straySo far away,This lovely feeling,Takes awayThe somber cares,Of day to dayAnd fills the heartWith joyful chantFor peace is Poetry’s,Great grant.
That’s what Poems are,In our lives, welcomed guests.
That decide what’s right or wrong,They’re by far a ‘Motley Crew’,And in Amazement, People say.‘Who, Knew? ‘