Dreams fill our souls

Weaving, spinning tales

of love and laughter,

Blossoming hearts.

Scenes of life and color

formed not in a lens, but in minds.

Oh, the colors

that fill so full they spill into pen

Pen that must hit paper

And so I write it

A poet's soul, so rich with dreams

Gives ink to pages

And within these lines, 

Dreams find solace

And keep connected these fibers of woven tales

in a world that seeks to separate them

Dreams that are struck down, 

Dreams that know no recognition

Find they are housed in the pages of a poet's soul

And in the pages that meet their pens

One can feel loved, one can feel known

When there on the page

they find their dreams, their soul

And so I write it

I write for my soul, to feel through ink

I find myself, I lose myself

In these pages filled with dreams

In a world of monsters

Of creatures that deal pain

so unbearable that it sinks me

Until the moment my soul spills onto a page

And so I write it

I write for the dreams filled so full of color

In a world of gray.

Gray that yearns for color

That yearns for love

Love that is housed in the pages of a poet's soul

For poetry is love

And love we must give

So I write it

I write love, I write my soul.