Like the rain flows freely. Poetry does to the soul.

Speaking legions of stories in just a poem.

As everything begins to unfold. 

The sun may come; The day may end. 

Forever trapped in our memories is the poems we hold within. 

What we do not say. Is riddles within the mind. 

Life may turn around, but we know that we are alive.

Staying close, endearing, and right at heart. 

Residing with the soul. 

It is never far apart.

Life goes on, never in reverse. 

You have to think of what you have while you have it first. 

Though things may come to fade memories remain. 

Either trapped in poetry or documented and stained.

We are who we are and can become who we want to be. 

For anything worth working for in life never comes easy.

The strength we have, the courage to face the day. 

Sometimes all we can do is pray. 

When the time comes, I may die and I may wake... 

But the poetry and memory will remain. 

Here we become legacy, not a stone unturned, nothing left to unfold.

Poetry may be forgotten but not the stories that they told. 

Pursue your dreams, it's written in the stars. 

Maybe a millenia away, however endearing to the heart. 

Everything you hold dear becomes a part of you. 

Leaving behind legacy for the others here. 

That is what poetry means to me.

The rain flows freely, every story yet to be told. 

The sun may rise, the day may end. 

Each day anew. 

Stay close, endearing to your heart, your soul. 

As you are set free remember who you are, 

Not who your not. 

Even a shadow leaves you in darkness. 

Followed by the light. 

Poetry is and always will be part of the soul and mind.

Feed your flame, ignite the way. 

Illuminate the path you walk on. 

And take a step now before it's too late...