Is Freud Felicity?
Love is decried
or set aside as subjectivity
unjustified by all allied to blind psychiatry.
Reflection cast,
one stands aghast! Is Freud felicity?
Is life a vast card-index classed interdependency?
Has true-love cried
so often, sighed in vain through history?
Is trust well-tried hate misapplied for doctoral degree?
A shell shut fast
‘gainst pulses fast of pure emotions free,
must give at last, or live outcast, - despite ‘ability’.
The truths inside
instincts abide, they’re blind who will not see, -
for none should hide, with hope denied, from creativity…
poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
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