badonko - Hello Poetry

The poets are different, peoms the same How long the power to give them fame? People read it and let it behind For mortal is the mind See a drunkard who dance Has the blissfullest glance So sing, dance and give True religion is to live!

0

Aug 22, 2016

Aug 22, 2016 at 10:27 AM UTC

No bed of roses.

The poets are different, peoms the same How long the power to give them fame? People read it and let it behind For mortal is the mind See a drunkard who dance Has the blissfullest glance So sing, dance and give True religion is to live!

8

Once transpired, cannot be changed Only pain will come if remorse engaged Though with sorrow you may be aged Not even a dot will be rearranged.

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Aug 21, 2016

Aug 21, 2016 at 6:14 PM UTC

8

Once transpired, cannot be changed Only pain will come if remorse engaged Though with sorrow you may be aged Not even a dot will be rearranged.

4

Heaven is incomplete without a heavenly romance. Let a glass of wine be my present circumstance Take what is here now, let go of a promised chance A drumbeat is best heard from a distance. Same hands that formed Venus and Sun And wove the fabric that makes time run Same hands brought us here, and when done Will leave behind dust, as if we were none If my coming were up to me, I’d never be born And if my going were on my accord, I’d go with scorn Isn’t it better that in this world, so old and worn Never to be born, neither stay, nor be away torn? I’d never be born, stay or leave, let it be known.

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Aug 21, 2016

Aug 21, 2016 at 5:44 PM UTC

Earth could not answer; nor the Seas that mourn.

Heaven is incomplete without a heavenly romance. Let a glass of wine be my present circumstance Take what is here now, let go of a promised chance A drumbeat is best heard from a distance. Same hands that formed Venus and Sun And wove the fabric that makes time run Same hands brought us here, and when done Will leave behind dust, as if we were none If my coming were up to me, I’d never be born And if my going were on my accord, I’d go with scorn Isn’t it better that in this world, so old and worn Never to be born, neither stay, nor be away torn? I’d never be born, stay or leave, let it be known.

13

Just started to write Hope it rhymes English is still cool thou Caus yo get to write things like bruh Step by step you get ahead But there is no way We are already perfect No purpose to convey The poets are different, peoms the same How long the power to give them fame? People read it and let it behind For mortal is the mind See a drunkard who dance Has the blissfullest glance So sing, dance and give! True religion is to live!

0

Jul 27, 2016

Jul 27, 2016 at 3:37 PM UTC

Yakidiyo

Just started to write Hope it rhymes English is still cool thou Caus yo get to write things like bruh Step by step you get ahead But there is no way We are already perfect No purpose to convey The poets are different, peoms the same How long the power to give them fame? People read it and let it behind For mortal is the mind See a drunkard who dance Has the blissfullest glance So sing, dance and give! True religion is to live!

16