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I Write Poetry

To be frank ...

I figured out the the recipe of dreams.
As I was following the last sunset beams.
It feels so empty to have patience to wait.
a dream that passes through my life's gate.

failure can be rough but recurring can be worse.
As if its a play and on playing failure you rehearse.
So what I was rehearsing day and night to that play.
And that was an excellent part for me every day.

I took an oath neither to shout nor cry.
Neither to change or even think to try.
Thus I learned that there is nothing to expect.
But fortunately there are lots to neglect.

I guess its time to unveil the untold.
although it makes me feel little bit old.
That sometimes no matter how witty or how smart.
failure is waiting to play his part.

Then conclude from my words and enjoy.
And save the efforts for another day to employ.
Since there will be tomorrow and with that be sure.
Success is waiting for your dignity to cure.
Carla1951 · 70-79, F
You are like me. You type out the words in your head.
Thus I learned that there is nothing to expect.
AND unfortunately, there will be more to neglect.
I want to read a sonnet,
I would want to hear the words that you created. Spoken from the depths of your pain, Hidden in your soul. Explain what you feel. Give your words Color. Leave the reader weeping for you, so that you wont have to. Leave me rushing out my front door screaming for her to turn around. Leave us with a Sonnet. That all one has to do is write the music. You are so close, almost there.
Abdy1985 · 36-40, M
@Carla1951 look at this beautiful lady :)

 
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