Their inner Life with others,
Most gents don’t care,
And If they’re there,
They hardly like each other.
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You remember the first time
There I saw the hidden tiesThat would make us become one,Moments were in heaven made,Moments that would never fade,Meeting moments, hand in hand,Looks that spoke a secret language,Only hearts could understand.
Each one is how they are,
Play inconsistent tricks.Each candleHas its wickAnd burns differently.Let’s respect our differencesCompassionately,Humanly, tolerantly.Tying to understand one another,Before accusing, blindlyAnd hopelessly.We will go farther….
Ultimate perpetual movement,
Musically perfect,Silhouettes fly by,Delicate caresses,For the spirit and the eye.
We fall in love so many times
And then sadly discover it’s not real,True love accepts the faultsWith all that’s good,Only then can Love flowerAs it should.
Like,
Poetry attracts,Does not disguiseFeelings that lie,Way Within.We known notWhen or whereIt starts,These trembling dartsOf loving win,Nor how they canDescribe so wellSo many secret tiesAttached, hiddenWay within,Nor how it can.This epic standExtend a loveThat never diesBut must illuminateThe skies,With a force,That only PoetryCan play and winFrom way within.
What is in a poem?
The Poet’s life, sweat and tears,Feelings grown thru many years,Dreams, Fantasies, Disappointments,That nobody wants, that nobody hears.