Each page conveys the sentiment
the words, more meaning still
to pause for just, a moment
listening to, the writer's quill

Inspiration flows,
From my soul to my mind to my eye.
My quill glows,
Connecting the dots, of the paper my ally

It's there for you and me
the comradere of prose
sung, lined, rhymed, or free
and perfectly, composed

My quill sings a story,
My heart translates its feelings.
My paper is never lonely,
For the words fill its openings.

We deal with emotions
the ones, we can't suppress
words, in constant motion
poetically, expressed

The words we can,
We scream, shout or yell.
The words we can't,
We sit quietly and dwell.

The feel of synchronicity
a push, sometimes, a pull
not knowing what will, or may not be
a glass not empty, but yet, not full

Rules are out there for a reason,
Laws are there for a reason.
Obey the law,
But,
BREAK THE RULES!

Everyday is gonna,
Be a good day.
So wake up every morning,
With a smile of your face.
The world is ready,
For you to take.

Fresh in the morning,
The world renews every day.
Washed by the evening,
The Sun Makes Way.

Standing on a rocking boat,
Waves thrown against me.
Wrapped in a warm, thick coat,
The Ocean turns against me.

Washed up on a sandy shore,
The sky is blue.
Boat smashed in pieces,
Guitar still in tune.

Walking through these woods,
With nothing but my music.
Alone in this forest,
Strumming to the acoustic.

Carved ancient rocks,
Of a civilization long ago.
My music reminds these rocks,
Of a life long ago.

These lustful meadows,
Of roses and violets.
My music grows these meadows,
Of flowering little starlets.

This towering mountain,
Of tranquility and solitude.
My music warms this mountain,
And softens its attitude.

Sun rising above the mountain,
At last I've reached the peak.
Moon falling below the horizon,
And so this new life I meet.

Standing on a floating cloud,
With just my guitar.
Departing from his life,
And taking my music afar.

I came from the north,
With my strings and guitar.
My family put their hopes in me,
So I may go far.

I wander these streets,
Alone and cold.
Forgotten stories,
Never to be told.

Every corner I turn,
Every house I pass.
I see sad faces,
Who never made it.

Lonely souls,
Saddened loss.
Sadists,
Whom all is lost.*

Alas, I couldn't go far,
The streets defeated my,
Strings and guitar.

Now I watch the cars go by,
Wishing I could have has a better life.

Everybody gets lost sometimes,
Its part of life.
Everybody gets hurt sometimes,
No one can run or hide.

From those troubles,
problems and obstacles.
You have to face them on your own,
Don't be afraid of what you don't know.

And if you're ever afraid,
scared or terrified.
Come back another day,
The boat's always ready for a ride.

You were made weak,
Its OK to cry and run away.
Just make sure you learn,
And return again some day.

The Ocean is vast,
The Forest is never-ending,
The Moon is far,
And the path is always winding.

However the view from the mountain,
Will broaden your horizons.
At the end of your journey,
*You Can Go Further