Left,
If it were not,
For Poets?
The immense richness
Of sentiment
Is in their hearts
Their words,
You have to
Know it,
And
Celebrate!
The Human Glory
Of All Poets!
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This Country saved my life,
I will not let it die,And just stand by,I will defend our Liberty,That perfect Human right,That tyrants crush on sight.Our words will be our sword,With Truth we will go forth,Once Liberty is lost,The road to Hell is crossed.
Sometimes in Us,
Of dormant talents and emotions,Hidden devotions,Let’s hope it’s never too late,To drink from this magic potion.
I’ve lost enough shirts
Now I feel cold,My nest egg has dwindled,That’s for not keeping,More eggs in my basket,Instead making omelets,Bad and bold.A la swindle.
Poetry plays with Time
Extraordinary,In its kindness,Embracing All,With poetic blindness,Loving All,Regardless,Of creed, race or religion,Poetry, always,Universal Vision.
If we can’t
At leastWrite it,In a poemYour thoughtsAnd feelingsWill produce,Some awareness,Which will serveYour soul,As truce,From all theHorrors and Abuse,Past and Present.
Have you ever thought white paper,
That have given up their being,So that great books can be written,Many readers, teach and please.We should all be grateful Always,To the trees that gave their life.So that writers from all nations,Could keep culture’s light alive,Making books such an important,Part of History and our lives.