Us poet-types are choosy with our words
It's hard for us to find our voices I think
We like our communication in a particular way
Breaking the rules of speech and writing
Care we do not because of the broken gates
Freed from our chains, we speak
of our minds, of our deaths,
Of our lives and all the rest

I call us poet-types to speak
To communicate in our strange way
for the passing of our days
To come together in support and make us
Make us love one another and support our emotions
Cradle the sadness we speak of
The natural sadness we found in our lost loves

Our lost lives that feel helpless forever and always

But stand tall we will, if we stand together.
My friend, My brother or sister, You and I are strong.
Love you I do. I promise that though your last life may be dead,
Life will start again, Life will be new.