A word, a rhyme can be sublime,
And open grand new portals.
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We think, what we think,
Hard to reach inside,Hard to change your own mind,Just like the weather,You can’t predict,What people will think,Most of the timeThat’s why,When selling new products,You’ve got to be sly.We are what we think,Wrong or right,By day or by night,But the problem is,That most of us,Most of the time,Don’t even bother to think.
I can interpret feelings,
It’s the kind of emotion,That makes you feel, never by yourself.
At moments,
And then,Even without realizing it,Desperately, loved you.I suppose,There are differentKinds of desperate loves,Those you can’t leave behind,And forgetAnd those you can’t live without.In both cases, its hard not toCry and shout!
Nebulous poetic dreams,
Trying to reach the sky,Aspirations, high,Trying to purify,Our human faults,Trying to find Love,To heal life’s,Sudden jolts,And doors that closeWith disappointing, bolts.
Those that love Her
Can’t get away from Poetry,Like a magnet she is there,Knitting dreams and saying wonders,Without Her, the World is bare,For all those that really love You,For all those that really care.
The Art of Language is Poetry,
So, you and I, we will never be apart,As long as a poem, everyday will start,The romantic beating of our helpless heart!