In order to honor them
And say, ‘I love it, so! ‘
Who invented love?
I think that now I know
Those who wrote, Poetry,
So happiness would flow.
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From pain,
We’re born in pain,And yet, our mothers love us,There is no life without some pain,And yet, thorned roses,As a sign of living life,We’re bold to gather.
A studious Mind,
Cannot findThe answersTo the MessBehind which some hidePretending, Progressiveness.Our inefficiencyAs well balancedHuman BeingsIs questionable,Not clearly honorableDebatable and some whatShameful,Putting our‘Good intentions’On high alertAnd dubious doubt.Today,Weird Experimentation,And political fabricationsAre causing great furyAnd mistrust,Pushing us backTo insecure, barbaricDivisional,Tribal TimesOpening bloody doorsTo Disaster!With much more politicalHazard,Which will causeFuture DictatorialClusters,With many more libertiesFound unnecessary,And therefore eliminated,No law and order,Will…
All that glitters is not gold,
Don’t grow oldThey’re to love, honor and holdTill the end of Time,I’m told.
I know nothing about,
Of classical music,Nor am I able to read notes,A language, I will never quote,All I know is that whenI hear some heavenly melody,Love and eternity speak to me.
We love to share our poems
The story is very simple,Love is the poets’ call.
Poetry,
That laidThe Golden Pen.And We,Don’t even know,How or When.