Where they live their perfect hours
That no Times can tear apart.
Politicians in polluted Leaning Towers,
Where they fidget, ‘work’ and cower,
Thinking up, how to keep Power,
And enslave the human heart.
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She’s a ‘ wonderful speaker’,
And really does very well,There are always Imbeciles,Brought and bought,To make her ego swell.
Sometimes I get impatient,
Because I can’t move mountainsNor change what’s really sad.Sometimes I get desperateAnd get really, really sad,Because I can’t stop InjusticeThat’s so notoriously bad.
I want to be good
Says man in every landAnd I hunt and I kill,So often, at willCausing pain and chagrinUsing Evil as thrill,Causing mistrust and chill,Bitter footprints in the sand.Of what nature do we comeThat we’re stillSuch rotten scum,After millions we have killed?I cannot understandThat the HandThat’s used to saveIs the HandThat could somedayAlso be used, to kill…..
Ah the naked eye,
The human wall,Of perversity,How deep can we really see?We are such fiends,Behind the scenes,We don’t even want the means,To cultivate,The flowers of sincerity.
The Secret Life of Poetry,
All that they ever want to be:A flying leaf of red and gold,A sailing ship, all new and bold,A crying bird that passes by,And leaves a message in the sky,A multicolored butterfly,That makes you dream and softly sigh,A brave new Light for Liberty,Saying ‘ All Men are now born Free’,And Liberty to Love the Wind,With…
Poetry communicates,
You can imagine,In a most naturalAnd heart felt fashion.