Life’s
Bitter bells of solitude,
Indulge in lonely sounds
That moan like pain,
The air is clear
But without cheer,
As hopeless love
Cries one more tear.
As lonely love
Just colors grey
One more day,
One more year….
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I like to write,
I like to set things right,To speak my mind, with letters kind,That some may use to fight.Thoughts, feelings,Write, exteriorized,Gymnastics for the soul,Sentiments of Truth, not lies,That are my very own,So, I write because, I have to,Because it is my way of life,I write to live another day,I write to stay alive.
We’re not complete without another,
Loving is giving the other,All the best that we’re made of.
If you have no good feelings
Then you have no soul,And if you have no soulYou’re not a person at all.
There’s something
That ordinary poetsCannot do,Your song is likeThe Nightingale’sAlways excellent,Full of feeling,Immensely, appealingAlways prominentFull of beauty,As you reign over usWrapped in a cloakOf exquisite talentAnd resonanceThat so generously,Gets thru.We all are differentAnd differently made,But when it comesTo Poetry,I know yours,Will never fade.
No matter what
You can only countOn you,We’re born alone,We are alone,No matter who,You areNor what you do,No one, caresAbout you,So take good careNo matterWho you are,Or whereYou’re all alone,And no one reallyCares,So Please,And above allDon’t fall,When walkingDown the stairs.
The best gift
Were your handsIntertwined, likeFlowering vines,With mineAnd your loving look,That made me feelAs if,The whole world,Would,Forever shineAs mine.