Raise Your Head

Without thorns, A rose is not a rose; Without rhythm and rhyme, Poetry is just a prose. I don't put pen to paper in order to kill time, For if I did that; I would certainly be committing a sordid crime. Time is not meant to be wasted or "killed" Every moment, with goodness; should be filled. Without thorns, A rose is not a rose; Without rhythm and rhyme, Poetry is just a prose. Blinded, I fell into the quicksand. I was dying, slowly; painfully, And no one was there to give a helping hand. Shake dreams from your hair! Open up your chest to the soothing air! Without thorns, A rose is not a rose; Without rhythm and rhyme, Poetry is just a prose. Not every sky is vast and blue, Not every smile is real or true. Beyond the dark trees of doubt, There is a green plain of certainty; Raise your head! November 4, 2016