That have lost their wings
And are still,
Looking for them
In what they write,
In what they sing.
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Some fools write poetry
How to exploitEveryone, in the land.
Not all we write
If ever,Not all we feel,Is ecstasy,Whenever,But if what’s writtenIs sincerely feltCommitted,We can rejoiceAnd bless, our choice,In between, aboveThe useless Noise,Well, fitted
Dreams are but Illusions,
Like the foam they vanish,Magically, at SeaThings that cannot be,Things that cannot be,Why do we still want them?Why do you ask me?I don’t have the answer,No one is a World,All I know is sometimes,Life is so absurd.
Music Speaks
But conveysThe sweetest,SpirituallyEnchanting,MessagesEver heard!
Love attracts Poets
Melting all barriersBetween love and desire.No wonder the RomanticsPut love before, AllAnd were willing,For Love,To give up their, Soul.
Nothing lasts,
Nada perdura,Nada es para siempre,Not even the sea,Not even you and meNot even memoriesThat become faded,And past,No, nothing lasts.Life is a processionTowards nothingWith an obsessionFor happiness,Never found.We are born with nothingAnd with nothing we leaveNada and NothingAre the end of everythingAnd when we leave,No one will even rememberWe had ever been around,Nothing gained, Nada found.