The same song


I change the tune,
The tone, the words
Here and there
The rhyme, rhythm
Open or close,
At times weak, or strong,
In short verses or long
I travel from end to end,
Writing the same poem,
Singing the same song.

Your talk of hatred,
Dark, rude, red;
Division, dissension
Wars, weapons
Your sole reality,
Like hundreds of years
Shedding bloody tears;
I talk of peace, purity,
Power of the soul,
Love, equality, human dignity.

Good or bad, right or wrong,
Time and again, I write the same poem,
In different ways, I sing the same song.

© supratik 2023
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critique and comments welcome.
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And how happy I am that you do, too much anger, hatred, fear and sorrow on the news, and everywhere we go it seems to haunt the steps of passers by, the lost, lonely: those poor souls sitting cold in doorways.


I agree with your assessment, Sue. There is too much doom and gloom around especially now with the farcical handling of Brexit.
By all means face reality but keep things in context.

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