Being Poet
Infinite Longing!
Hands together, but
Poet does not suffer
he does not cry,
He is Silence!
He is a mirror of our life!
He align our pains
with few of red and grays
painting sometimes our griefs
Milky Way!
Ask for him
in that good hour
A pinch of colour
And he, having all such power
gives to you and to me
a little of rest and touch of blue
I just want only be poetry
No pain, no loss
I want all his words!
His counsel, His wonders
I want to fill my chest
And be pure delight!
Fill me in with All the magic in the world!
wrapped me, take me
Show me!
His dance
She can heal me!
She can transform me!
And tell me anyway
Restest, come down,
Now, here, we are equals today!
poem by Mirna Morgan
Added by Poetry Lover
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