Poetry

It makes me sad to read such wonderful prose hidden only cause many seem impaired lighting dimmed softness fades missing true gems, for glittered dreams Like ones travels explore discover hidden Lanes quiet places are better to savour wine and enticing poetry taste better than overpriced grapes Many are fooled by by the popularity of bellwethers who could swindle the pence out of their mothers purse actions and words completely reversed poetry escapes them, rants are not verse Seekers of praise purchase their attention I rather true poets expressing life's true reflections nothing has changed time passes, is always the same Stained ink on meaningless pages