Doesn’t care if we All croak,
Truth distorted and well choked
Don’t complain when we’re all broke
We ourselves have sunk our boat!
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Who are we now?
And Fast Food addiction,With no vision,Waiting for giveaways,From some Lying politician.
What inspires you, dear Poet,
Is it Mystery that does it,Or the wish for divine flight?
‘One, is never better served
An old French saying goes,Lucky those,Who are sufficiently alive,Who can lead a loveless life,And still be happy by themselves.
A poem this,
So many things,That don’t come back,All effort gone,In Life itself,As Time slides off,A hidden shelf,And all’s not well,In Fairyland,For those who,In a poem dwell,Thinking that time,Can be pulled back,And will some how,Forget to act.
They tried and tried,
To be our guide,And make us better people,Yet, we do pray in disarray,And fall right off the Steeple.
To each his drug,
The stage and love,And for my friends,A lifelong hug.