Sometimes my dreams are shattered
by sneers and ill-read frowns.
Someone again reads past my mind
with little depth in theirs.
The danger in not thinking
is a danger indeed.
To be destructive, not creative
twists the meaning of everything.
Many Holes Indeed
You turned your back in anger
when I confessed to you
the path that I had travelled
was far apart from yours.
Your fields grew different flowers
than mine. Your poems told different tales.
And when you gave yourself to me
some part of you was far away.
The moulds that shape our lives
are seldom woven by truth.
The need to find companionship
has many holes indeed.
I hope anyone stopping by will enjoy these two poems by my friend Terry Robinson! The first image is of a famous Renoir painting-for the life of me I cannot think of the name of it now. The second image is a very good looking guy named Anton Antipov if I have my information right. Again-I wish everyone a beautiful and happy new year!