When you’re unsure of where to start,
the middle or the beginning;
If the darkening night sky seems empty,
with no one to hold your hand,
You must learn to write.
The blank lines are begging you to scar the page with your timely thoughts, vacant of love and full of forgotten wisdom.
We are a lost youth and the crinkling of age is tearing us apart.
We have all seen things, and we must not let them weigh us down any longer.
It is not enough to simply vent your soul to others.
So when your hand allows the thoughts to come through, you must take your time.
Take it slow.
There is a sense of patience, don’t you see?
These pages will not judge you; they do not perceive you any differently than what you want them to see.
They are willing to be there, night and day.
When our minds seem to be caged, poetry sets us free.
Tell your story, let it be known.
Erase your mistakes and let the pain cease to exist.
We are creatures of the universe and we must confide in the vast corners of this world.
It is forever, while we are not.
You mustn’t be scared.
The world is beyond naïve, poetry allows us to finally see.
Talk dirty, be promiscuous.
The words have no limitations for the melody of which you speak is the almighty.
It needs to find a way out of you, out of your mind and your very being.
So set it free.
The terrain is endless; let your imagination go to a world that your soul has not yet discovered.
Both you and me, we will finally feel the weight lift off of our shoulders as the words escape the tips of our fingers.
I told you it was liberating, it is addicting.
It is my medication.