And hit the trail
Of desperation and defeat?
While there is still,
Art, Poetry and Love,
Sensitive Souls,
Will still be able to stand
On their own two badly beaten,
Romantic feet.
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If Poet’s dreams,
I’d share them All,But just with you,A selfish lover I would be,Because you do belong to me.
It’s never too early to start to Fool,
A man. a woman, a flea or a dog,Does it really matter who is the next Rogue?
Devils as presidents?
Or just having a nightmare,In History’s bed?PSIf you take the D off Devil,What does it say?Evil,That’s absolutely right!
Talent can’t be stopped,
Express itself,Like a Rose must bloom,To give birth,And spread its own perfume,So, the artist works with his inner loom,Intricate fabrics, mysterious call,Come together, forming something,That sometimes says it All,That sweeps you away,In an unforgettable waterfall.
Heart of my Heart,
If ever I should neglect you,Without the slightest quandary,I would immediately,Without any doubt or hesitationRekindle the love,I so deeply feel for you,Because after having knownThe blessing that you are,All the love you give and posses,How could I ever forget youOr live without you?Love of my love,Love of my heartLife of my life.
Poetry’s very special,
Handmade,Spanish guitar,Poetry, has toLook, Sound, right,Vibrate, be alive, danceBe molded by the SoulTravel from its melodic trance,Right into your loving heart.