It’s not only their face,
It’s not only their eyes,
Above all it’s the Soul,
That shines, identifies,
And silently signifies,
Love’s mysterious, flowing tide.
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What is True,
I suppose notQuite a lot,Language usage without shame,Just to fool us, all the same.
When you’re in love,
But when unloved,You just wither away,Night never becoming day.
Bing, bang, boom,
Pen or pencilBig commotion,A poem from the heart,Ready to zoom,It may be fair,It may be good,But most of all,Should be understood.
So alone!
Always,Dreaming of love,Which she hadNever, ever known,A heart,So sensitiveSo sweet,And yet!Had never madeAnother,For it beat.Like a childWithout a home,Her lifeGathered,The painful remnantsOf an empty,StormLove never grown,A wasted life,That never knew,The joys of love,And so can,Irreparably,Be torn.She never knew,Why,Day by dayThat feeling grewAs skies turnedGray…And years died, tooAs nothingMoved,The earth was parched,Her lips were still,Her Body,Claimed,By…
Freedom of thought,
To make life and love progress,Without Freedom we’re impotent,To give fully of our best.Or feel Life is truly blessed.To be able to express oneself,The Freedom in that Joy,It makes our Lives worth living,Understanding chokes Destroy.
Letting go
Streaming, fast awayMemories pastCannot be heldThat swiftlyFleet away,So is the past,So is the past,That leaves us,But today.All flutters by,In Life’s great sighDoes not come back,Dissolving, in Today,Time takes awayBut won’t give back,All dreams,That would not stay,So is the presentInto past,So is the presentInto past,Like butterfliesThat hardly,Live a day.