Hardly ever on the screen.
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Okay,
Off your rocker,One, Two, ThreeWe are livingCrazy times,Of deep manipulationAnd still thinkWe’re free.
It’s all about
The rest is justAltogether,Frills and flimsyLace,Poetry can’t helpBeing,The innermostWitness,Of the feelingsOf the human race.
I am not one to be enamored
Poetically written,But when it happensAnd I’m poetically smittenWith feelings that are written,Forever in my heart,That poem staysAnd each time I read it,In heavenly rapture,My heart sways.A sort of love-story,Like when someone prays.
Because it is,
A chance to screen,Against what is injustice,And view Life’s scheme,With hope, esteem,And always fight for Justice.
I breathe poetry,
Am alive thru poetry,All by myself,With no one to shareThis piecing love,Within meAs if I were livingOn a distant planet,All by myself.But my love increasesDay by day,And if one dayI have nothing to say,Nothing to writeNothing to live for,I will go awaySilently, miserably,Hopelessly,Because poetry and IWe were born togetherOn the same dayBy some magicalUndeserved favor,And,…
Swings on the floor,
All is upside down!Where do we goTo stopAnxiety’s flow?‘Sorry,Nobody knowsThe name of thatTown,For it is no more.’Just an uneasy feeling!No one there to helpJust an uneasy feelingOf all being,So ineptSo amateurish,And dangerously,Swept!Just an uneasy feeling,And nowhere to goEven though its SummerSanity has been buriedUnder tons of dirty snow,And History is a bannerThat no one in…