To each his drug,

And why do they have that great name,That is different from the rest?Because they are Romantics,Of 21st Millennium Fame.After, you have read them,You’re life won’t be the same,They will take you to the Mountain,Where They write their Sacred Rain!

There are so many hidden schemes,That we are not allowed to see,Or know,That danger grow,Like an arrow and bow,Those in power throw,Their poisoned plans into the air,And then they swear,They are doing the right thing,Their dishonesty and incompetence,Are more than surprising,‘Each people has the government they deserve’,Said the great Alexis de Tocqueville,When it comes to…

Like the day is long,And the night is black,And it hurts,Like the cavernous black holeOf a star that died,Leaving behind,No luminous track.So, I’m feeling black,Black like an endless cave,With no heart,Where blind bats gather,Seeing not,The sign of mourning,The forever, Black,Left by your departureAs the day is long,And the future, black.

In present world of anxietyYou flow, you calm,You flower, Peace,You speak of Love,And pain you easeOf lonely hearts,Blessings don’t cease,Beautiful watersWho can resist,The deep felt callingOf your mysterious mist.Beautiful River,Dear Poetry,Please flow forever,In sanctity,Cleansing the souls,Opening minds,Leaving all hate,Far, far behind,Inspiring,The best in us,A friend to have,From dawn to dusk.

They lie thru their pores,They work hard to fool us,Not One honest word,Do they play nor they say.

Poets live in other Worlds,Made of sadness and of words,Poet’s life, Intensity,Poets want, what cannot be.