Shush.. quiet down!
Do you poets ever go to sleep?
I believe It's all been said
And done before
Still you had to write your piece
But you are correct
Most of us forget
If I miss a single word
I'm eaten by regret
So here in my world
It's dark outside
One last post
And I'll say goodnight
Goodnight!

Who is this woman
Not sure I ever knew
What were those reasons
I was dragged into

What was I looking for
What did I need
Everyone is broken
Broken like me

I represent myself only
A simple thought
And I can
Recall lonely...

In the reflection of the ocean, rolling in at my front door
The wind does blow...in from the South of that Im sure
In the midst of winters white, a poets blood does run thin
Dreams are not meant to break, but blossom from within
Who am I to say such things, for I am shackled too
Once the words start to escape...there is nothing either of us can do
Prisoners who know no cage, just slaves to the verse
Passion filled lonely souls...victims of the poets curse