Music,

Working for all They can get,Their lives with our sweat to perfectBenefiting only, the governing classPeople in speeches receiving,Broken promises and poisoned flowersThat makes the Game offered,To decent, credulous voting foolsA scheming, totalitarian tower,Laced with the chains of much too much power.

If you can evenCall it that!For it’s a compulsionFor writing,A magnificent obsession,I suppose,Love must feel like that.

As long as Love,Is strong, not weakLove’s feeling flowers from within,It’s Love that always makes us winFor it is right and never wrong,Becoming life’s most precious song.

Take everything you’ve got,Said the weasel to the hungry rat,Just wanted to remind you,In case you forgot!

I should be sad, like I am, Everyday,But I don’t know why?I’m just a little happy, today.Maybe it’s because I’ve written,More than other days,Maybe it’s because I didn’t listen,To the horrible news of the day,Maybe because I feel less lonely,Writing away,Maybe because it’s only Monday,And ‘I think’ I have something to say.

And when appreciated,Nothing better,Ever heard.In our materialistic world,We sadly findArt’s bitter battleHoping to survive,All Poet’s Words,Try also very hardTo keep the artistic spirit,Well in hand,While poets’ spiritsStill on Beauty thrive.

Visits can produce,You always introduceLake-like lingeringTreasure, that opensHearts and soulsIn lonely, silent booths,As poets writeAnd do their best,Hoping to conserveBeauty, Life and Truth.

Shadows crawl along the wallsOf past incense,Each day succeeds one anotherLeaving no print, no memoryJust emptiness.

The wear and tearThat so many times,Life has to offer,You take us whereWords sooth our caresAnd feelings haveSo much to offer,Above all else,You open dreams,You bring on Peace,The world over,Then not aloneYou’ve found your homeAnd the long journey’s,Over.

Is the miracle of the great artistBy always implanting, Feeling.

Where blue lagoons sing to the moonAnd Love is all around.Take me to creative landWhere best of us is foundWhere Art and feelings sing all dayAnd life makes happy sounds.Take me to that precious place,Where Love and Peace, aboundWhere minds can meet,And hate defeat,As souls are starward bound.

Express themselves in verseTrying to find open roadsTrying to secrets, burst.In the high noon of lifeFeelings come firstThey must be obeyedIn order to satisfyLife’s unquenchable thirstJust to realize, afterThat all the harshnessAnd pain of the mind,May be written,In one single,Apocalyptic and visionary,Internally revolutionary,Confession of lifelong,Travel and find.