To not feel at all,
Than to feel and not be near,
That, that cannot be,
Never to posses the golden tear,
Of love that suddenly appears,
But then becomes a whisper in the wind,
Now so far away, when once so near.
Similar Posts
You think because you’re a poet,
Not true,It’s just that at certain moments,You may be,Or seem a little less Dumb.
How are the cards
To make us who we are?Each card so differentEach game played, too,The one thing we know,For sure,Is thatI, will never become, You.
Possessed,
To write the best,The most profound,I can,My feelings,Thru most words,I sound.The quest,To touch the skyOr at least, tryThe unknown heavensPoetically, mystify,Where perfection liesAnd rose colored dreams,Abound.The Stars,Lights without sound,The Soul,Lifting us upFrom the groundLove,The summit of every life,When found.
Too much Analysis
When isToo much, too much?Too much thinkingToo much lovingToo much feelingToo much tryingToo much cryingToo much accusingEach other of racistBlubberToo much protestingFor nothing,For unbridled change?Where does it stop?Where does it end?In heaven or in hellWhen its so overdoneAnd its justToo much!Bordering,With insanityStaying out of touchWith realityOverboard, terrifyingBecoming a menace,A maladyNeither the 21st centuryNor the people…
A confusing life it is,
In the arms of our pettiness,We miss,So much of real conclusion.We try to arrangeAnd pick up sticks,The answers to confusionAnd at the end,We all have missedThat Life’s but an Illusion.
LOVE,
Harder to define.