Laced with emotion,
Soaring in the wind,
To places where,
Not even imagination,
Has ever been.
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Funny the things that thrill us,
That become part of our existence,That we put up on a throne.Funny how we meet them,In a book, a film, a poem,There we find our Heroes,Made of dreams, not flesh and bone.Funny how we idealize,What we cannot be,Always wanting to be more,Than our reality.
Alone,
For the World,No one consoles,Not even songOf lonely bird,Sustains me, holds me,So absurdIn this Inferno,Called ‘our’ world.
A touch of lace,
Youth,Illusions bloomAll is but grace,And yet, how soonLife’s flowerLoses colorLoses tune,As time consumesThe youthful daysOf no return.
Who are we, really?
Of idealistic rubble,Part of HistoryOr just memoriesMuddled,Whose very existence,Was more troubleThan worth,Because we seem committed,To toxicityInstead of creativity and mirthOr even,Just forgotten, how to actWith some specks of human worth.
Concerned, good people of the World,
Fight poverty and ignoranceAnd vision turned, bad circumstanceThat bring on pain, dictator’s holdBe brave, be firm, be good, be bold.Fight evil men, the Misanthropes,Those that take us for constant dopesThat put the world in danger stillTo exercise their Evil will.And then, make sure you fight for Peace,For understanding and love’s leaseTry to eliminate all War,All…
Good Morning,
You’re the cream on my cake,You’re the joy in my Dream World,You’re the moon on my lake,You’re my passport to heaven,You belong just to me,Hope we’re always together,That’s how Love has to be.