True Love forgives, also forgets,

An eternal melancholic flower,That takes away the power,To find happiness to share?Always thinking, always thinking,That better Worlds exist,In some fairyland, Somewhere…

Instead of chocking,Words run deep,A flight of birds,From head to heart,A trembling motion,Gives the start.A poem born just like a child,Whose love is now a faithful guide,Direct emotion, cannot hide,The happiness, now by your side.A poem born, that’s part of you,Like from the tree, the fruit is too.

That goes beyond the eyes,That softly magnifies,The meaning of all Love,Giving Life its deepest ties,Saying, ‘Love’s forever, love’Even still, after we die.

Poetry isSo full of grace,It sooths the heart,With blessed words,Sometimes,The loveliest, ever heard.

To write,A poem on a subjectChosen at random,What a disaster!I could feel itsUnauthenticity,Crawling,All over meAs if the words,Were made out ofFragile, white plaster.In general, pretending,What is falsely,Not youCan only lead to disaster.Plus, trying to writeAn artificial poem,Shows us,That when it comes to writingAnd true artistic creation,The mind and the willAre Not, our main Masters.

So why should we,Not individuals be?