Maybe,I waste my time
But I don’t belittle,
Or try to harm
In any way,
With what I say,
It’s just that Poetry
Is my deep passion,
In a very special say,
I write to live
And I live to write,
I suppose that Love
Has always been that way.
Maybe,I waste my time
But I don’t belittle,
Or try to harm
In any way,
With what I say,
It’s just that Poetry
Is my deep passion,
In a very special say,
I write to live
And I live to write,
I suppose that Love
Has always been that way.
All seems to crumbleTo be falling apart!What is,Should not beAnd what shouldn’t,Seems sustainedBy strange, almostInhuman noises,Gaining groundStifling,Positive sound.As the waters of sanity,Evaporate and narrow‘Twenty First Century! ‘Are you our nightmareOur worst case scenario?Where all seems futileWhere beauty fumblesMortally wounded,By indifference,And sorrow?Sometimes,I feel as thoughWe’re swimmingIn an Aquarium,Long, dark and narrowWith our humanity wilted,Our brains tiltedAnd…
So, the PendulumOf Life!Dare we askWhy?
ComesThe Poetry,The PainOf self-expression,That so oftenOpens doorsTo regretful,Slow, processions.
All that is honest,Truthful and sweet.
Maybe you’ll come to your senses,It’s of you, World that I talk.
You want to set things rightExplore Beauty,Love Life’sExquisite animation,Embrace contemplation,Search explanations,Exercise the flightOf all imagination!Sing with sheer delightTo all of Life’s,Miraculous sensations.