So if poetry is a riddle, is love the key?

Do we subtract sadness?

Take away fear?

What about pain?

In this equation who gains?

Life's a never ending circle of questioning what comes next,

And I'm not sure

Because I've felt a feeling I can't quite keep a hold of,

And it slips from my fingers just as it slips from my mind

And in this crawlspace inside my head I've decided, that we're better off alive.

Despite the pain that grows,

The anger that flows through our veins I still believe that we are at the very least,

Human.

And that is a thing in and of itself, to be able to say that today, I am and therefor will be and therefore always will be because I believe it to be such,

And tomorrow, I think I'll love.

And maybe I'll find a reason to cry,

Or a reason to yell or a reason to scream or day dream.

And maybe, I'll write poetry,

A symphony of constructed thought like I was born into a world where nothing else matters,

And maybe you can too,

Maybe you can believe in things that break you,

Like the things that don't **** me make me strong

The things that I do wrong today I won't do wrong tomorrow,

I hope

And nobody is perfect, and nobody should try to be

But with a language as fluid, and universal as feeling?

Why restrict it to the grandest of all?

Let's get down to brass tacks,

The nitty gritty, let's find the dark spots so that the bright ones seem brighter

Let's fill the room with ***** things so that you don't worry so much about what's under your fingernails.

Let's find out how beautiful beauty can be but first, a little perspective

Let's live through these hard times so we know how much better things can get

Let's find out how many feelings you can feel in just a few short years,

Let's become the people we always dreamt of being, and true change seems to stem only from tragedy,

But let's embrace them,

Because all of these things?

Are what makes you, you.