Think of Them when you are feeling lonely,
Helps from falling totally apart.
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These are strange Times,
I feel as if I’m upside down,Instead of my forehead,My lips wear a frown,I can’t fully explain,But I don’t like our Music,It’s full of destructive sound,We seem just to lose it,In our 21st Century,Technical Merry-go-round,And there seems to be no one around,No one who cares,If we live or we drown.
From pain, the greatest poems born,
A storm,But Life goes on, it’s just that plain,And yet for some, there will no longer be,The Fantasy,Of singing in the rain.
A feeling deep,
Instead of chocking,Words run deep,A flight of birds,From head to heart,A trembling motion,Gives the start.A poem born just like a child,Whose love is now a faithful guide,Direct emotion, cannot hide,The happiness, now by your side.A poem born, that’s part of you,Like from the tree, the fruit is too.
Creators of
At times,Artistic SkyscrapersThat defy the passageOf TimeThru talent, heart,And art,And yet! ,Masters of unimaginableCruelty and Horrors,Distributors,Of pain and death,The Horrible Paradox,Of human behavior,Itself!How can we be,One and the same?To be so,Artistically creativeYet also,Alas!Monstrous creatorsOf so muchDestruction and pain.
I want to know,
To decide for me?How, I am to live?What I am to know?Or where is My Life,Supposed to go.You’re not a god,Much less, a king,You’re not even a Clown,In a Circus ring.
The right to write is sacred,
For writer and for reader,The level of communication,Must truly be, omnipresent.Writing is a brilliant gift,For humanity, a blessing,Where would knowledge,Freedom’s beauty be?If writing where not present.