She had a soul, one that made her feel free. She had a soul, one that made her feel like a beautiful rose flowering. She had a soul, that made her smile so bright. She had a soul, even through all the hatred and treachery. She had a soul, one that no matter how much the world tried to break her she still stood tall. She had a soul, a soul that would carry on for centuries, bouncing and changing from person to person. She had a soul, that only certain people with certain hearts get to feel. She had a soul, one that only a few people in a lifetime get to have. She had a soul, a soul that would be carried on to only ONE of her grandchildren because it is so rare to be able to see the beauty of a dark world before her. She had a soul, a gypsy soul I might add. It is rare and beautiful. It is dark and mysterious. It is wild and adventurous. It is kindhearted and colorful. It is................Me. I have a gypsy soul. I am a gypsy soul. One like no other that cannot be copied or duplicated. One that speaks and acts on freedom, beauty, truth, and love.

Drop a penny
or add a pound
a moment with Ludwig
will give it a sound
a true voice to the voiceless
the blind see and the deaf hear

You the hero
I the shallow

I whisper to the sky,
"I'll go."
Because I know
You will not hear me

Friends never say goodbye

The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do?

It wasn’t letting you go.

That was difficult though, to swallow my pride and wear a smile to hide the fact I’m not okay.

Oh no, the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do? Was finally admit to myself the truth.

It was admitting that you were never mine to begin with.

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

I'm too much of a mystic.
I live in my head.
I always know the words,
before anything is said.
I can see the future,
before I get out of bed.
Sometimes I lay there,
and let it fill me with dread.
It's hard to get up,
when it's written in red,
but these visions have led me
to share my bread,
because I always know
when a heart has bled.
I'm a mystic that lives
too much in my head,
but these visions don't always
fill me with dread.
Sometimes they give me
happiness to spread,
because a mystic knows tomorrow,
you could wake up in bed,
with a vision in your head,
that someone you love
will pass on to the dead.