For the Light,
I cannot,
Could not
Find!
In desperate
Admission,
Do I sign
This burning truth
That cuts me
Time and time
Again!
Desperately,
As if it were
A new born crime!
We were,
Just not meant
To be together
And I get
That cutting sadness
HERE!
In heart and mind,
As the autographs,
To Never,
Do I sign…
The love that in his poem flows,Must have a Universal pose,As towards the ideal Stars, he flows.
Elected or not,A very dangerousTool,And prone to terribleAbuse!To use it wiselyTo benefit,The electoral majorityIs seldom,A political, rule.Power!The right measureSo seldom,Or never, found,Rights, drowned,Abuse, SubterfugeDeception, DishonestyAnd Tyranny,Is mostly what’s around.
I cannot believe in Compassion,While Murder is in fashion,And we hate one another,With such morbid Passion.
Poetically written,But when it happensAnd I’m poetically smittenWith feelings that are written,Forever in my heart,That poem staysAnd each time I read it,In heavenly rapture,My heart sways.A sort of love-story,Like when someone prays.
The more you’re with it,The more you mold it,The more you feel it,Deeper, its Hug.
If you readThe right Poem,Won is, the gameAs with Love,Just the same.
