Franklin M Kline Poems

Love is not a feeling but an action a verb

It's the way you treat someone not just a word
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To practice stoicism is to live with reason
To face the world with courage and grace
To not be swayed by pleasure or treason
To find contentment in your own place
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Loyalty is a rarity

In this world of duplicity
Where people lie and cheat and steal
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Life is a journey, a quest for meaning
A search for the truth, a longing, a burning
We wander the world, we explore the unknown
We seek adventure and we turn every stone
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Failure is not the opposite of success
It is a part of the process
A chance to learn and reflect
A challenge to overcome and perfect
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Beauty is much more than what meets the eye my friend,
It is not about the shape, the size, or the color of your skin,
It is all about the essence of who you are within.
For your heart is your source of your attractiveness and light,
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Love, a mystery so deep,
A secret none can keep,
A puzzle few can complete,
A patch of sinking sand on a slab of concrete
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In a web of deceit, from a woman I once knew.
She said that she loved me but her love was un TRUE.
A facade of affection, and a mask of concern,
My trust she did fracture, it was one hell of a burn.
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They whisper, those voices in the shadows, hissing of a darkness that lurks within love's embrace. They speak of a poison, a slow-burn venom that seeps into our souls and leaves us hollow and craving, forever seeking that next fix.

Love, they say, is a tyrant, a cruel master who demands our all, a greedy beast that devours our sanity and leaves us broken and babbling in its wake. It rips open our hearts, exposes the raw flesh beneath, and revels in the pain it inflicts.
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Your ghost still lingers on this breeze,
the scent of moments, lost with ease.
Laughter rings, though you're not here,
Each memory whispered, a held in tear.
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