So hard to describe.
It’s as if you are able to fly,
Because the words
Make you love, dream, sing
And sometimes, even cry.
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‘What did you mean?
Poetry should not beThat way,As clear as a bell,Truthful and fair,Poetry’s virginal togaShould reflect the beauty,Of the innocent at heartNot take partIn what can harm others,Poetry should be an example,Of fairness and kindnessAmongst all human brothers.
There is nothing fair,
And controls everything,Controls your Life,Like Feudal Lords did,In Communism,The people do the serf’s bid.Beware!History repeats itself,In a most uncomfortable way,Stealing liberty, chocking initiative,Drowning social and individual rights,Yesterday, tomorrow and today.
How do you paint a feeling?
Drive it,Perfect itHide it,Keep on feelingIt forever,Ride it into infinity,Name it,Blame itKeep it secret,Passionately deprived,This never ending feelingThat helps you stay alive.I have a mild suspicion,That once upon a time,In some wild omission,And without anyone’s permissionSomeone called it Love.
The latest dehumanization,
Not that drivers are that great,But they give you one more thing,To blame and hate.
Emotionally,
In a passionless fashion,Of which I can’t boast,Surrounded by images,Nothing for real,A virtual life,Has no great appeal.Life lacking emotion,The warmth, human feel,Is a great empty ocean,Doesn’t even seem real.
It’s hard to write
A lot said,In small space,With very little ink,But that should openLinks that make youThink!Poets are stingyWith theirFace to face,They want to makeSureNo thoughts goTo waste,They want to reachQuickly, the heartOf all mattersAnd sum up the totalBefore inspirationJust fizzles,Or shatters.