Maybe the greatest discovery,
Since man invented the wheel.
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Fresh Flowers
Their beautyAnd fragilityIs shown, feltIn the lovely,Colorful dressesThey wear,Don’t abuse, the Weak!Help them,Treat them with loveAnd care,Tenderly, for they’reLike delicate flowers,Whose frail petalsNeed, SeekThis Loving CareAs does Beauty,But Both,UnfortunatelyAre abused,Everywhere.
You’re words are the only thing that are really yours,
The elated and mystified Crowds can read you,But never, never exceed you in your feelings,Because your words possess and are your feelings,Your words are your Life’s goal,Your words tell you, you are not alone,Your words, after all, are your Soul.
Miss Poetry,
Not temporary idolatry,For those who haveYour marvels sung.Eternal fountain of youth,Of Beauty, Love and TruthWhose endless gloryAnd unfinished story,Is not yet done,As you, Miss PoetryLovingly, rival,The morning Sun.
Writing, reading Poetry,
A Companion, glory be,From land to every shore,That is what you are to me,Dearest,So dangerously close,Being in my lonely life,My one and only Rose.
Today,
Lying means you’re not a fool,Sticking it to the system,Popular wisdom,With all this ‘Grandeur’What hell-hole are we in?Can’t find it on my telephone map,Maybe because by now,We, the people are considered,Less important than a muddy Sow!
Swings on the floor,
All is upside down!Where do we goTo stopAnxiety’s flow?‘Sorry,Nobody knowsThe name of thatTown,For it is no more.’Just an uneasy feeling!No one there to helpJust an uneasy feelingOf all being,So ineptSo amateurish,And dangerously,Swept!Just an uneasy feeling,And nowhere to goEven though its SummerSanity has been buriedUnder tons of dirty snow,And History is a bannerThat no one in…