Moultrie, GA, USA
A creature inside a changing time.
Morphing, growing, dying, and being reborn.
Where does it begin?
Where does it end?
In birth we die.
In dying we are born.
Looking, waiting, trying to find the answer.
The answer to the question, that is, as we all are, lost.
What is that screaming!?
Itís not important.
Wait! It is!
I just want it to stop, thats all.
I really miss the silence.
Why has the world turned its back to me?
Will all these emtions ever get free?
Free to love, to cherrish, and vent
But damn this world; there is no repent!
An emptiness inside.
I am missing something.
Please! Where is it?
Forget it! I quit!
You lift a pen
And the world stops to listen.
You speak with no words
Your mind, it glistens.
You've painted a picture, you've opened a door
Explained the mysterious, answered much more.
You fill heads with voices, you light up the night.
And everyone listens to the words that you write.
So you run out of words, and lower your pen,
You rest for a bit, and start all over again.
The first one I like. The second one I wrote to hopefully describe the flurry of emotions inside ones head; something I describe in many of my poems. The third, is a littl poem about us poets. :-)