On a broken chair,
Taking advantage of others,
Brain-washing brothers.
It’s distasteful, Immoral
And hateful.
Teaching kindness,
Consideration,
Betterment of self
And of nation
Is what counts,
Giving life
The proper perspective
And human bounce,
Seeking higher Stars,
That are luminous and fair,
Showing, we are indeed human
And sincerely care.
Others tea,Even chocolate,Loved, can be,But Poetry’sThe One for me,It brings, me LifeAnd keeps me Free.
Nor does it flower,Just at a bid.
We can just conquer,Change troubling Oceans,Into positive streams.As we get older,We lose our thunder,And sadly realize,That all remains as it seems,There are no miracles whipped by words,That will fulfil the idealist’s dreams,We’re but Fools, trying to fix,The devil’s dirty bag of tricks.
When Spring was youngAnd new,Is painful from the very start,No longer is it true.My days go by,In one big sigh,As empty as can be,Sometimes, I just sit down and cry,My heart, an escapee,For nothing of that love remains,Today, a memory.
When those you elect betray,What is left, to pray?Prayers are fine,But so many go unanswered,Sit, do nothing, is also tempting,When cowardice is exempting,Faults that should be exposed,Lay passive, are not in time disposed,As ‘political correctness’Becomes the only desired mode,But one thing I will say and swear,Once you lose your hard earned FreedomYou will not find…
Nor as beautifulAnd grateful,As the love describedIn ‘Home Coming, ‘An unforgettable poemBy Louis Rams,I would call it,Perfection.
