The hedonistic moon
Covered my writing sense
Drained of all its wit
And petulance
If these poems rhymed in time
Let me change it so,
So that it sings
With mocking meaning
A depth we do not hold
Fixed on every cadence
Every effort right redundant
Hatched within my private dome
A gift with no reception
A song of love that has no home
May my meaning fall
On ears abundant
May these words shine
Like the Sun,
Glittering and bold
For I believe, in the light of every kind,
We all have the qualities of gold.
Empathy is Poetry 