Trying to alleviate,
The anger, the heat,
The desperation,
The disenchantment
That in me,
Gnawingly, accumulates
As I look thru History,
As I navigate thru Life
With an open mind,
And after all this time
No Answers, yet…..
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Now,
Poetry often is Philosophy,A vent for animosity,A window to curiosity,An open Heart’s adversity,But most of all diversity,All subjects does it touch,From the humble daisy,To the one you Love so much.
They say that Dreams,
Do not always come trueBut if they’re shattered, one by oneThat does destroy you too.
Poetry was made for you,
Elevated to a scaleWhere there is no celebration,Of others, there’s no call,For they simply don’t exist,You have devoured their throne,Set aside their domination,You reign thru your Soul,Poetry Perfection, that is All.
The things to do,
Are endless.That is why I spend,My time with you,My small computer,Called ‘True Blue’,I want to know,I want to read,Make my life grow,Not be a weed,Find out of Life,The very seed,Never be swayed,By human greed.
Does a Rose have any feeling?
Does the Sea remember being,Immense Beauty, Tempest, Fright?Does the Wind remember learning,How to blow a stormy night?Does a bird plan it’s long journey,Just before it takes to flight?And do You, do You Remember,When we met with such delight?And from just a tiny ember,Love, burned everthing in sight.
Never a boring moment
It challenges all subjects,And helps you understand,That impulsive ticker,Where emotions often land.