The violets lost some of their flair,
The Wind asked softly,
Love is where?
But could not find it anywhere.
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Yes, I agree,
Poetry Is a drug that does you well,It purifies the Spirit as it should,When you can’t write, you don’t feel very good,I hope that this by all is understood
What is said in Poetry,
Those Emotions quick, at hand,Nothing written in the sand,Truth and Spirituality,Poesis, a Mystery,Ideal World, ment to be free.Poetry, Oh Poetry!Make me always part of thee.
Do you ever get accustomed
Staring at the wall,Walking up and down the hall.1 room,2 room, three,All empty,1 door,2 door, three,Who’s there?Only me.
Hunting down the moon,
Sailing choppy waters,Never getting far,Life is an illusion,Gone before it starts,How deep would be the Ocean!How real our dreams would be!If there had been the illusion,Of love one day to be.
The magic today
Mixed with feelingsAnd happenings,Some imaginedSome real,Or bothMakes books, poemsScripts and filmsA desired world,A place to goWhen around us,The real becomesToo real,And we can’tStand it, anymore.
How would you define,
‘Beware, beware,Global Warming,Greatest threat,Same sex marriage,A sure bet,Iran is a peace loving nation,You bet, they’re all set,Superior education,Liberal threat,Law and order,No respect, must upset,What happened to this Nation?Soon we’ll all regret.’