If ever,
Not all we feel,
Is ecstasy,
Whenever,
But if what’s written
Is sincerely felt
Committed,
We can rejoice
And bless, our choice,
In between, above
The useless Noise,
Well, fitted
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Hypocrites!
A terrible traiteOf envy and hate,Ugly and deeplyDangerous,Leaving scars,Without, exodus.
Poetry and Classic Films,
The anguish that I feelWhen I see this,This noble CountryBeing run by the insane.
In order to fight,
I always return to Poetry,It’s my psychiatric Oasis,The best of friendsThat will ever be,A very good form of therapy.
The feel of Heaven
Just when you seeThe One you love,All cares and fearsMelt, disappear,The World is yours,When Love is near.The feel of LoveIs so complete,Nothing on earthCan then compete,Can even dare,To crush or stopThe life-long musicWay within,That sings with forceLove’s glorious, hymn.
So many Languages spoken,
When will we learn to communicate,With truthfulness, not only clues?
Yes,
Played on a piano of metaphors,Each one having his unique imageHis way of saying, poetically,The original sentiments that make poets free,All of this owned, very personally.The rest is heart,Resoundingly blown,By a wind of words,For each his own,Their very soul.