Some are most creative and beyond comprehension
For they are that talented
Some have that magic naturally
Some hoping to create and find their way
Their impact makes us better writers
You can agree to disagree
Just read and enjoy
The pleasure of reading and enjoying the talent is so much better
than the so -called talent we tune into to see
Not asking you to tune out but tune into what happens here
Hello Poetry Poets
Thanks

I only dream of reaching you,
Here grounded on this patch of Earth.
Yet all the same, I'm richly blessed
To see your beams of silver-blue,
And sights of all the landscape dressed
In brilliance that gives Night its worth.
What are the dark hours without you?

If you have to lie, then deep inside,
You already know the truth you hide.
The words you twist, the stories bend,
Can never heal, can never mend.

A shadow creeps with every tale,
A weight that grows with every veil.
The truth, once bright, is lost in gray,
Each step you take leads you away.

You know you’re wrong with every breath,
Each word you speak, a quiet death.
If truth is gone, then so are we-
A bond can’t live on false debris.

If you must lie to make it through,
Then face the truth: it’s not worth you.

We met
We talked
We pretended
We laughed
We considered
We agreed
We exchanged
We left
It was like a kiss from a rose

They say time heal all wounds
And though that may be true
For the majority of scenarios
It’s not an irrefutable fact

For our childhood scratches
May be a fleeting kind of pain
Yet there are some scars that life
Engraves deep within our soul

Like a bullet whose trajectory
Missed my heart by a few inches
But hit a far more damaging target
My very last bit of innocence

Now, when I look into the mirror
Every broken bone lost its meaning
And the echoes of who I once was
Are all that remains to be seen

When a black sheet has been
thrown over the moon
and a million lazy stars
have fallen from view
I hear the wind has
grown tired of traveling
I hear the sound of mandolins
crying in the mountains
I hear the rattle of
gypsy wheels
I hear the heavy hearts
of horses upon the
restless roads of
broken poetry ...
Clay.M