RE; Poets
Someone once dared me to explain Poets and Poetry,
And I simply replied that it was a reflection of me-
For I think that people are blind to the very things they see
And in my words they can discover what I aspire to be-
I can take the time to craft them a picture,
Build them a city, experience an adventure -
For there's a certain power in trying to relate
my causal experiences in regards to my fate-
So-
They now know my thoughts, what I choose to pen
A carefully constructed facade, in a truthful, youthful blend
Open hearts given a start will break apart into words of art,
And all these beautiful things, will end.
However, the end doesn't mean that there won't be a beginning,
There's no falsehood in wonder, questioning isn't sinning.
Poets are the explorers, the builders with words,
They explore the condition, through adjectives and verbs-
They give chase to the worlds flights of fancy,
They are the ones who dream of romancing -But why are we so often, not heard?
Casino Spanish Eyes
This man; His heart was close to frozen
And forever ached for time to thaw it.
He had worked on his warmth-wont wall
So that no-one could ever hurt him.
His eyes had turned to crystallized ice
Reflecting nothing in their brilliant blue
Betraying nothing but false emotion
To everyone whom he knew.
His hands held the kinds of worried warmth
Known to men who were short on time,
As if life was merely granted, not given
And could be taken at proper sign.
So he slowly started to lose himself
In the wild winters of an improper world,
Growing numb to others troubles,
But then he met the girl -
-
And she beautifully betrayed him,
So his walls were brought back in force.
To never again let the sunlight in,
To never let emotion beget remorse.
El verano siguio el invierno,
el hielo se empezo a descongelar.
En el agua, encontraron amor-
y ahi es que se perdio todo
