Try to predict,
Future’s Sky,
Look at the clouds,
Feel the wind,
Ask somebody
How to win.
But no matter,
What you do,
Nor how hard you try!
Predicting the Future
Is an impossible lie.
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Two days I haven’t heard,
Inspiration is a lacking,And my nerves they are a cracking.Now my heart begins to tire,Having only one desire,Stay as close as close can be,To my singing fantasy,Inspiration, don’t expire,Keep me warm under your fire,You mean everything to me!
Poets cry, so why can’t I?
But, I feel for all those,That have died, in vain,For a World that doesn’t even care,If there is Justice or despair.Oh my tears could fill the Sea,World, full of Hypocrisy.
To symbolically speak,
To convey worlds,Never seen or that never stood,This, the Poet does,And if successful,A reading must.
The Beauty we create
Man is just,A spoiled childWith broken toys….
My finest hour
I suppose,Wagging tongues willKindly say,‘It was all your fault,Anyway! ‘
Greatness is not in the eye of the beholder,
That from some living beings streams,Feeling compassion is not blindness,It’s the human passport, we redeem.