He was a lonely person.
With so many words he
Can't fathom into sentences.
He would sigh and lay
His head down. So many
Words scream and shove all
Competing for a chance
To be on paper. Waterfalls
Of letters crush out darkness that
Pleads "Write Me". Vines of
Complicated words tango with
Useless 'fillers'.
Haiku's battle with sonnets,
Crashing against mountain of
Free verse. Winged poems like
Guardian angels thrash against
The dead hands of past poems.
Casting them back to where they belong.
Forgotten,
Against the whiteness of paper.