My Poetry Borns

When I cannot express my heart to your ear,
When I cannot equate my pangs to your heart,
When I cannot utter my deep dark words to you,
My poetry borns.

When I think the future days to come with you,
When I smile with the happy happy joys with you,
When I kiss your absent rosy lovely lips in darkness,
My poetry borns.

When I write invisible meaningless love letter to you,
When I sing absent nonrhymed self-composed songs of you,
When I draw your smiling still beauty in my mind's canvass,
My poetry borns.

When my lost-heart aches with the fear to lose you,
When my mind fills with empty thoughts in your emptiness,
When my melancholy love bids adieu forever for the better,
My poetry borns.

My poetry, though unrhymed, sometimes meaningfully meaningless,
Borns amidst the thorns of sweet selfish world of morning rose
When my broken thoughts embrace thy ever absent sweet soul,
And then, only then, my melancholy mind meets miserable mirth.


Comments (3)

Well wrtien man, should send this to the Church........Pope? have a nice day dave
Bob, Your faith is strong and I commend you greatly... From your poem: 'But you don’t have to fear the sword, if you will accept Christ as Lord' I find your message jaded, narrow and threatening as it leaves little room for the other 6 billion of us walking around on this planet that do not embrace Christianity. I ask not for your pity or prayers...only tolerance and understanding. No offense meant, Ray
Enjoyable. Beautifully told. I'm not so sure about the constant use of the word 'many' - there are alternatives: mind you, a great poem!