Sensations, desires,
Feelings
That don’t expire,
Talented choir
That echoes
In the distance,
Bringing us closer
To Love
And Life’s fire.
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A poem like a song,
A message, all alone,Does not sing as should be.Melodious rhythm, some good rhyme,And images galore,Do not amongst that, short forgetOur dear friend, metaphor,Make Poetry, endless in Time,A Gift you can’t ignore.
And then,
All bandaged upAfter being beatenDay in and day out,Savagely, RelentlesslyBy words of mouthIn timeless boutsBy irresponsibleDespicable, BrutesUncivilized beings,ManipulatingOur yesterday’sOur presents,Our tomorrows,Stealing hope,Stealing livesSeeding doubtCultivating lies,It has to STOP!
If all good things come to an end,
Seems like bad things just renew.
A Poet’s home
Where all living beautyAnd endless possibilitiesExist,But where the impossibleIs sadly, embodiedBy a pen less and closedFist.
Stand up for what is right!
We all have a right to the Truth,It’s about time to stop the trickery,And decency and verity chose!
As memories accumulate,
Yesterday’s blurred imagesAppear, but they quiver,Disappear, metamorphosing,From clear, to painful narrow.Life itself becomes a shadowLess perceptive in the dark,Shadows, memories thatWith us travel,Things we did and so enjoyed,Childhoods, full of hope,In excitement for tomorrow.But, we live and realizeThat life is only,Time borrowed,Bitter sweetness that arrivesTime that flows, creating shadowsThat our lives are not our ownAnd…