Through a portal in the flowing sands of time
We travel back into history,  1849
Where we find an intriguing man
who can pen a nice line!

He was no craven, he flew with a raven
And you're wondering who is this man
Everyone know the master of poetry
Edgar Allan Poe ☆

Alas, we find Poe upon the streets
        Of Baltimore, all alone
in severe distress
Gasp in strange clothes dressed
        And none were his own!

Astonished were we and deathly ill was he
And not misbehavin'
   Only unshaven!

Swiftly he's whisked away to a hospital
             Washington College!

Whereupon four days later
the grim reaper greets him,
"Hello, Mr. Poe!"
   

Oh Poet!

You can hide in the dark,
but I withhold night vision.

You can say words that make no sense,
but I can translate it all.

I see you, but seeing you is not enough
to live our such a glorious dream.

They can say it all but what do they really mean?

It can all be understood,
but somehow it's not.

I'm a book that's hard to read.

Some dreams leave me filled with
wonder and adventure
Like packing only one piece of luggage
and saying "come with me, take my hand
Let's go away, get lost and chase our dreams
Let's go visit the Stars, just you and I
Let's go see the world"

You made me cry today.

You raised your voice at me
as if I wasn't sitting in the seat
right next to you.

You told me I didn't listen -
that I never listened.
And that I didn't understand,
nor even try.

You screamed all this
at the top of your lungs
instead of
being a mature parent
and talk with your daughter
in a civilised tone.

But you don't do civil,
do you, mum?

But then again, you don't see your faults either
but focus on mine and others'.

It's funny how you accuse me of not
listening when in reality
you cut me off when I tried to speak.

You took my voice, mum.
And you refused to give it back.