And so much that escapes us,
Each person, a secret world of his own,
But no one has the right to break us.
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Writing in the clouds,
Normal, less normal, insane,Some people like to read,The Clouds that Poets write,But living in the Clouds,A danger signal is,For even famous poets,Cannot fully describe,The Mystery that life Is!
The Present gives birth to the Past,
The fleeting moments are not,For us to grasp and hold,And what was done and told,A memory that will not last,Shadowed stories of our past.We can’t control Time,Even if we wish,Life is a Mocking Bird,Served as a strange dish,Garnished with Time,With a bitter twist,And a green taste of limeOr maybe,Just Nature’s crime?
Together,
We like it,Or not,Certain Souls,They come together,And their Love is not,Whatever,It becomes a solid knot,It becomes your Life’s,Endeavor,That cannot be torn apart,That can Never be forgotten,And was there right from the start.
Everyone should be,
Or at least love poetry,It’s really very niceTo live this love’sFulfillment, fantasy,Poetic vice can satisfyBut never harmful be.
Can’t let myself go,
I’d like to tell you,Is chocking me so!Confession are not easy,Without hearts on trial,Forced to declare,Love’s incessant flow.For it does flow,And pulsate, you knowIn our sinuous veins,Like passionate fireThat burns and remains,Not my fault to love you,Love just happensAnd you don’t know why,Sometimes you want to laughAnd other times, just cry.
The Political Teams are moving,
They’re certainly doing their best,To destroy the American Dream,‘This one for President,That one too, ‘It’s really a pity,We have to have,Any of you!