Words, Feelings,
For they do not always,
Communicate,
What there is of intricate,
In the human labyrinth of thought.
Thought,
That sometimes may be twisted,
But so personally free
That it should never be,
Tampered with for naught,
Communicated with, gently,
With the best of sincerity
That suddenly disappeared,And now it is scary,There’s no hope for Mary,Anywhere in our Sphere,We have all been,Brainwashed and sheered.
Angelic words all dressed in white,Have loving wings that can take flight,That’s why I whisper every night,‘I love you so, with all my might’
Poetry deliberates,Has a short debate,With itselfShould It go into PoliticsOr join the CompaniesOf thousands of fake productsAnd Advertise itself,In order to be read and heardTo survive, the Present,So full of unquestionable,Mistakes.
Can get away,With anything they do or say,This is not our USA,This is not, the land of the brave,Of the free, to act so shamefully.
But creating Hell on Earth,It is We that fan the Winds,That do so.
