They sing like ash cans and they’re fake,
I’m sure they’re all a Big Mistake!
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If I could,
The solitudes of my Soul.Would you listen?Would you comfort me?Poetry,So I know, I’m not alone.
Writing is my passion,
Music to my ears,Part of me is song.When I write a poem,I am never aloneIts tears are my tears,Its images, my smilesAnd the feeling of loveIt gives me,In me, never dies.
Like the breath of day
Want to stay with you,If it has appealHas spoken to your heart,Keep it with you.A friend, a confidant,A friendly handA poem that at moments,May assist you,And at others,Who knows?May even cry,With you.
Either it’s there
That flair, that flameAll Beauty blamedThat Holy, namedCalled Poetry.
The artist understands,
The emotional earthquakeThat life and love do cover,And can artistically conveyHuman understandingBringing us closerTo one anotherIn a most amazing wayAs Life is given,To color and clay.Whether in a painting, poem or play,The true Artist has so much to sayAbout Love and human expression,His song to Life’s mysterious processionBecomes at times, a life long obsessionAnd his…
Be cautious,
Exchange words carefully,They mark your territoryThey close or open pathsOnly fools and cowardsAnd certain, psychopaths,Speak and enjoy,False testimony,And we sure are sickOf THAT!