No fame and no glory,
Just trying to do,
What’s right.
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Poets are different,
All of Life’s secretes,Just through their eyes.Poets are different,Planets apart,Ever so lonely,Right from the start.
Of love and hate
So very much is said,Sometimes,It’s hard to look ahead.Riding into the sunset,Our lives are left behind,Love was lost in ParadiseOr with frustration, lined.Life!What purpose is there?Fleeting Time,For what to rise?The makeup of serenityThe tempest within, hides.Its so hard to be without you,Much more than I realized,Embraced by shadowy memoriesAs the Sea now gently cries…..
Poetry was meant to share,
Feelings silently come on,Here today, but then their gone,Curious how they fluctuate,Rushing in or rushing out,Strong today, tomorrow’s doubt,Yet there is something that’s sure,Love so deep and true and pure,Never losing its allure.
A poem can be,
You receive one day,Full of beauty and melody,With the fragrance of surprise,Pleasant image to the eyes,That speaks a language,Never shy,But upholds sentiments,That just won’t die,And sometimes, only sometimes,May bring some tears,You have to cry.
Hope that we know
Of them all,Is to grow, in love,For all that livesAnd all that givesShape to this,Wonderful WorldOur Gift,Miraculously, conceivedBlessed,With life’s seed,That human foolsConstantly,Take for grantedAnd continuously,Bleed.
Beware, Beware
Cuba, Venezuela.To name just twoHave enslaved,The populationThat has NothingIn return,It will happen toUs too!Don’t think becauseThey change the nameThere’s anything to gainAnd that this time will beDifferent,Its all the same,You will become a slaveOf the Perfect,Leftist State,But lose of LibertyIts very Name!Once fallen in the Trap!There will be no returnTo the DemocracyYou did not love…