In this Piece,
Poets will Lie
Politicians will Cry,
Musicians will swim in a Moat,
While the Country sings,
‘Missing the Boat’
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Life kills you,
Poetry’s worth it,Life, not so much.
Roses,
Trying to cope with being alone,Roses, as you sway,In the dying light of day,Memory winds play,A saddened song.Remembering,Past images, display,Moments, times foregone,Then, without request,Time stops or rests,And Life loses,What is its best:‘A tender smile,A pressing hand,The Look of LoveA passion grand.’You close your eyesYour heart just cries.It’s hard to breath,The wind is cold,Pain does not…
I like the sound that some words make,
Words like ‘Devine Melancholy’,String up an Orchestra in me,Words like the Earth, the Sky, the Sea,They make me hear a Symphony,Of all the words that I posses,There are just three I like the best,‘I love you’ holds the Universe,Your Life complete in one sole verse.
Dust,
In the Dust Bin,We humans fabricate it too,By behaving like Morons,And knowinglyIndulging,In so manyWrong things we do.
You never have enough
And when they’re not there,It’s Hell, I swear
Life is just, pretend.
In ‘Make Believe’That can’t contendWith shattered dreamsAs harsh reality,InterceptsThe empty avenueOf dreams.It seems,That, nothingThat we really wantWill then take placeOr just by chance,Even arrive,For Life’s hard driveCannot bring backNaïve illusionsThat in realityNever even playedA relevant part,In Life’s,Unstable stage.