Paragraphs,
of words to be.
Written down,
to fill a need.
Sentences,
penned forth to read.
Hung on walls,
for all to see.
Explanations,
of the past.
For the future,
made to last.
Little words,
that make us dream.
Fantasize,
cry and scream.
Delivered to us,
in a grin,
Read in ways,
that chill the skin.
Serious,
but sometimes fun.
A poets work is never done...
no the poets work is never done. because your readers always want more. PYT
heyyyyyyyyyyyyyy so beautiful---something for me to go to my favs list. great write keep sharing ++++++++10 regards anjali
when everything is on the move.....the pen in every poet's hand never ends...it goes, it pick, it turn, it run to the best that it can...so everything is done a good poem.thanks
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An enjoyable piece; loved the concept of this poem; one must always keep pushing one's spiritual boundaries in search of truth by writing poetry - while being sure to not lose one's joy during the process. -Joe Breunig author/poet, Reaching Towards His Unbounded Glory