My joy is in my hand
It demands only but courage
I will keep trying in this land
Till all happiness I find in my storage.
At my own precious time
I shall visit Venus
Even if it is just a mime
I will become the merchant of Venice
I am hoping on hope
At her own leisure to bring
Me a coach to help me cope
For my name must ring
If fate must make me new
I will never become Shylock
Even if it means being born in Jew
My soul will never have that luck.
I believe in sweet tomorrow
Where nature will heal my wounded soul
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POSSESSIVE
PoesíaA collection of poems about love, life, nature,pain. it is intriguing,erotic... The power of words will blow your mind.. And yes, it is written in the simplest of diction.
