They wear a mask
because their own selves
they fail to trust

infinite is non
definable concept that
falls to a nothing

Poetry
has a lot to say
about morality:
after all
it's about life
and humanity

if it's just
about rhyme
and rhythm
its words
would be empty

poetry
might not change
the world
but its presence
should bear testimony
to our human dignity

Poetry
so frequently
is like prayer
to me

I can help you
so much only
the rest is entirely
up to thee-

I've my problems too
in my life-journey
I had to struggle so frequently
to be free and happy

I wish you well--sincerely
wherever you might be
we're also cast into life's uncertainty
we've each to reckon with destiny

There is no purple in my berry.
The winter’s cold. It is not merry.
There is no song left still to sing.
The summer’s gone. There is no spring.

There is no colour in the sky.
There is no answer to the “why”.
A songbird sings. There are no notes.
The words we say don’t leave our throats.

And when we yearn, there’s no relief.
There may be faith. There’s no belief.
There is anger stirred up without cause,
For there is not what once there was.