Are they Poetry’s goal?
To protect our fragile, sanity.
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She’s a ‘ wonderful speaker’,
And really does very well,There are always Imbeciles,Brought and bought,To make her ego swell.
Each Poet,
Of thoughts and heartPlanting worded flowers,Not to fall apart.Poetic power,Unusually greatCan traverse Time,And still, captivate.
Another World,
Poetry is,An open space,Winds carry flowers,Time is devoured,Wide open spaces,Nothing with laces,Open your heart and be freeLove every word of your friend,Poetry!
I have but myself,
Said the Nightingale,As the love of the MoonIt pretended to win,Disguised,As a singing Swan.
For when,
Snail’s slimeAnd parasitic chameleons’Unacceptable political crimes,Committed for power.Where did we all come from?The bowls of Hell?That after centuries of evilWe still need,A good moral Shower!To be able to clean upOur sinful spell.
Of lying tongue,
Paradise Lost,The people feed.The more I live,The more I knowMan is to man,Less friend, more foeAnd as I walk thru meadows sweetI try to avoid, the Weeds I meet.