A chicken does not lay a chick,
It lays an egg.
A cartooned heart can never beat
Though it is red.
A dozen bells grouped up
Can never be a gong
And sounds mixed just enough
Can never birth a song.
Doves that fly to many places
Do not make each landing 'home'
Copied titles and some phrases
Cannot be woven to a 'poem'
Words and verses when stolen
May give a moment's joy
But mark this truth that in the end
That messed up life is Guilt's own toy.
-February 1,2010
Copyright Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Tarlac City
Philippines
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Cynthia; I agree with your observation of one who hides behind another's work. Anyone can put words on paper, but how many can impact a life with original thoughts and words? Very few.... honesty will always be the partner of greatness while guilt has a way of finding it's own. I do enjoy your work! Wayne