Poets
For world was told in beauty,
Where golden's and grey's inhabit.
Only some had seen the truth,
And this group beholds wisdom.
With the poems they'd written
Eternal life and eternal youth was differed
I thought world was out looked
Beyond graves and catacombs, but no.
This group sees different,
They write ambiguously at coherent.
And taught youth what reality is;
'That at every mud, a flower grows.'
Bizarre, yet it was, like the son of David.
Like the beginning that formed at the very end.
Nothing more, Nothing less
They write 'magic', they are 'The Poets'.
BINABASA MO ANG
Postcripts
Poetry"When power leads man toward arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses." ...
