An only child was she, alone in a world that would never understand her
She hides behind her prose, which allows her to mask in public
Her angst, her fears, her tales of woe
If the door to the pathway of understanding is opened
It will reveal too much of her, pouring out the gates of sorrow and anguish
Sharing and bearing the uncovered heart and soul of this poets state of mind
My poetry has found her voice and allows me to share my life sagas
But by no choosing of my own, my mind can wander all over the place
Taking on its own intellect and forgetting what it was supposed to be discerning
Until it is dragged screaming and kicking, back to my thoughts of reality
Realizing that it is needed to complete the stories, circulating in my mind.
No comments:
Post a Comment