Sincerity, not spun,
You are the life,
That flows thru my veins,
Poetry is Love,
Love is Poetry,
Stemming from Life’s,
Most inspired tree.
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Poets are dreamers
Living in a WorldOf worded fantasy,Where beauty and LoveAre theirs, for free.
Flat,
Or an outdoor mat,Indifference sets in,A moody spat with yourself,Hardly reacts,Nothing seems to count,Except disillusionment,And you don’t want to accept,The realization that,Nothing or no one to love,Projects a transparent image,Of emptiness,That you can’t pick up.
Life’s silent Paradise
To make it comeTrue,Just me and you.
Sentimental Journey,
What can move us forwardAnd what can turn us down?Love can help you travel,But existence, MysteryAnd if you walk aloneLife is a lonely travelWhen Love’s but Fantasy.
Dressed in Spring flowers
Love took a silent walk,That day,So in love were theyWith one another,That no longer did theyHave the need to speak.Their loving looksTo one anotherSaid more than any wordsCould ever say.
We pretend
Exists,When we knowIt’s but a shadowIn the Mist.