Loneliness in Life can be,
The saddest, darkest,
Empty space….
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Poets well co-exist
They exchange lists,Of thoughts and feelings,That converge,And make themSlightly less absurd.But what poets understand, the best,Are the elements that come together,To feather, other poet’s nests.
Art is smart,
As nothing else can,Intangible emotions,As if it had a magic wandOr some kind of secret potion.
The joy of being with you,
No words or useless chatter,Are needed to feel this:A flight towards all Eternity,A breath of perfumed bliss,An amorous wind, embracing,The fulfillment of a kiss.All This you are to me and More,My life, my heart, my very soul,Before we were together,Did I exist at All?
To each his poison
Mine is Poetry,I find Her, rather nice
What can’t Poetry
If you can answer,Please do.Because, I can’tEven if I wantedTo.Love is blindTightly Bound,By such mysteriousFeelingsThat for, the inexplicable,Many timesThe right words,Don’t existOr can’t be ever found.
I compose
The things, I feelThe most,Life goes by so fast!And yet,You seem to lastSustaining me,Perhaps knowingIt is you,I love the most.