Proof

I wrote a poem crazy regarded.
Seen as developed, seen as retarded.
Of being, I wrote, of to be as expected.
The terror I lived through could not be neglected.

What is funny about it, I really got mad.
From that time of my intellect was pretty sad.
Seeing it coming, I might say, today,
I felt for the option to be in that way.

Feel for Giving

If much to say
To reach day has,
Not gay you are.

NOTE :

This poem is referred to on the blog hop of dVerse
| here |.

Lay Back

When you keen are
On seen to be,
Been there, done that.

NOTE :

This poem is referred to on the blog hop of dVerse
| here |.

I Take A Step

I take a step and make it up
As if I made of tea a cup.
Perhaps I never was prepared.
For aftermath, though, it was cared.

The only thing worth wishing for
Is not to be a bloody bore.
I take a step and wish for it
To show I am not God damned fit.

I take a step, and maybe so
I find my way, a way to go.
The joy of life is to create.
And futile is to go for gate.

The joy of sorrow is the thing
That will to satisfaction bring.
I take a step and I am glad
I feel for it. I am not sad.

My Mother

My mother told me to always be creating.
With her, my mother, I never was debating.
I thought of it, at my mother’s expenditure,
And, God, I loved her, and worked on my signature.

There is so much to possess and to satisfy,
Thinking to be good the common will gratify.
My mother told me, yourself create anything.
That was the greatest of all she was bequeathing.

I wish my mother was still here, though moreover,
That she joined happily heaven by passover.
Gift she was giving, she did me characterize.
By what she said, she her offspring did authorize.

NOTE :

This poem is referred to on the blog hop of dVerse
| here |.