Words instead of colors, paint,
The portrait of our inner state,
No sentiments, concealing.
As sincere AS Love should be,
The Poet words, his lettered painting.
Never wanting to conceal,
A Heart that sometimes may be breaking.
Fantasy and Poetry,
Words that speak, Eternity,
Wish one day the World would be,
One Blue Sea of Poetry.
When a Poem speaks to me,
I regain faith, naturally,
I am able to believe,
That the bad, the dark and evil,
Have not taken total hold,
That some artists that are bold,
Radiate goodness, compassion,
That our lives are not just cold,
And mechanical, subtraction,
That the stars still shine above,
And that somewhere, in some corner,
There’s a thing that we call, Love