Of incipient insanity,
Because they write,
And think so much.
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You have always been that Someone,
But it seems it never happened,My life just a cold retreat.Searching, dreaming, always dreaming,And just living in the Clouds,When what was supposed to happenStayed suspended in sad doubts.For I thought you would not Love me,And I thought you wouldn’t care,And my life became a black hole,Filled with sorrow and despair.For I loved you without knowing,That…
Communism doesn’t work,
Before nothing, now it’s worse,Fifty Six years, Empty Purse!
Life is a veritable puzzle,
Enjoy the good moments,Spread of the Rose,Its incomparable, natural perfume,But never the pain of its thorn.
A poet is amazed,
Of things noticed and unnoticed before,Wide and narrow, big and small,From fierce tiger to humble sparrow,For his eyes, heart and mind,Are compelled to write,And want to comprehend it All.
I have no one with whom to share,
My likes, dislikes, my doubts, my cares,The few I know, they just don’t care.Along the Riverside, I walk,Preferring, mainly not to talk,Ideas that ponder in my head,Yet, Silently I go ahead.Alone, beyond all human reach,Nothing to learn, nothing to teach,A Cold Wind blows just up ahead,As Silence folds its empty head.
Mountains may cave,
But Love profound,If finally found,Never dies,It is too precious.