AN UNREQUITED LOVER.

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A poet always sees and writes the world through rose colored glasses,
He realizes that his Poetry is about so many things life, love and mixing the masses,
What does the poet see when he writes afraid of making a blunder,
A Hodge podge of words the world gets to see it makes him wonder;

Will the work always be like this jumbled in his head before going on paper,
His skill under the blade to be recognized or disappear like a whispering vapor?
And yet through all of the doubt he hears a victory call ringing in his head,
He writes faster and faster his whole being feeling the weight of the dread,

What if’s surround him his soul cries for help he scribbles once more;
Trying to capture the essence of his feeling, the paper becomes torn,
Torn with frustration hands in his hair, he bunches it up and starts it all over, 
His eyes glisten with frustration the unshed tears of an unrequited lover,

And then all at once a light bulb goes off and he knows what to say,
He scribbles and writes as fast he can holding all other thoughts at bay,
And when it is done he sighs with relief and looks at all he has written,
And the poet he sighs the lover is quiet and content like a newly fed kitten

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FAULT IN OUR STARS

If we could go back and relive our days,

Would the outcome be yet another maze?

 

What if we traveled on a brand new route?

Or pursued a different challenge and bout?

 

Would there be less hurt or sadness and pain?

Would colorful bows show brighter in rain?

 

Would the up mood come to replace the downs?

Would the smiles rush in to push out the frowns?

 

Would we love again or need to be loved?

Would all of our problems be somehow resolved?

 

Could all hidden doors be opened with our keys?

Would there be any new uncertainties?

 

Could we make every and all dreams come true?

Or in the process, would we lose a few?

 

Would there be new ties, or would we be free?

Would life be better, could anyone see?

 

Could or should destiny be seen or changed?

Could future be altered or re-arranged?

 

Without the unknown, would there be a drive?

Without any drive, could we still survive?