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Bohemian Thoughts

Poetry By: Graeme Montrose

Thoughts in the Attic, windmills of the mind

a person, as an artist or writer, who lives and acts free of regard for conventional rules and practices.

Submitted:Nov 10, 2009    Reads: 502    Comments: 30    Likes: 23   

Bohemian Thoughts
Music, light, spinning round
Laughter, song, intertwine
Smoke and sweat, odour stale
Senses, trials, emotions kiss
Aromas, scent, the days begun
Rich and dank, strongly blend
Sizzling, popping, soon devoured
Some must die yet others live
Fresh the breeze, inviolate
Autumn leaves they fall and spin
People pass in separate lives
Never seeing moving by
Poets dream as oft they do
Youth rebel and change goes on
Wheels revolve the cycle moves
Dust to dust once more
Heady matters of the mind
Smoky cafes empty rooms
All begins yet all it ends
No one seems to see
Blind the guides who lead the blind
Chained like slaves they are
Treading endlessly along
Mindless! Soulless! Dead!
Possessions own them
Slaves of things
Power corrupts it rots within
No one seems to care
Attic windows moonlight night
I lie awake and dream


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