Just a supposition really.

The Best Of Whatís Left

People spend their lives
Wanting another world
Where dreams come true
And ice-cream is swirled
Where everyone is kind
And the dogs donít bight
Where fairies and pixies
Dance in the dead of night
But early in clear morning
In the back of our mind
We know in our true heart
It is what weíll never find
For itíll never be like that
But this we just canít accept
So we sulk through our days
Making the best of whatís left

Poetry by Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 104 times
Written on 2018-04-04 at 14:13

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josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
Another gem, Dave! Youíve got a truly singular style! Bravo!

ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
Bravo! Some times what we are after, we already have!

It seems a "grass is always greener" sort of a world, instead of dancing on the grass we've got! I'm guilty of it too, I'll try not to sulk.

Ashe The PoetBay support member heart!
I just want the Republicans out of office and I'll be happy.
No fairies or pixies, although dogs that don't bite would be nice, especially when we ride a bicycle or motorcycle. Sweet poem