I write my poems out of

The stories I am told

From the wants of young

To the needs of old

From those that have it all

To those that have no more

From the peak of heights

To the depths we fall

From those out on the fringe

That come at the tail end

In search of life's acceptance

But aren't sure where to begin

I take what I write

From the blood of night

From the song of day

In the beat I find

The feeling that you get

When life takes its toll

The older that it is

The more of this you'll know

I've written poems in blue

And also poems in black

Recalling things I've done

And feelings I once had

Be it things that I've found out

Via tears of a clown

There isn't much that I

Haven't written about