It all starts with an idea, that you can Feelings come between now and then Thoughts come running through your head All the time is ripened for what could be said Then it takes what was yours It just breaks all your core And you'll never know why You gave in just for more All the sights and the sores Painful cries as they court And you'll never know why You take in, lust yet torn
Sometimes I fear the feeling of contentment Of completion and accomplishment Because afterwards I'll never know If the passion dies, or if I'll still grow Then it stops what you start It just drops from the heart And you'll never take back What you gave just for art All the lies and the lores Faithful eyes now they tore And you'll never know why As you come back for more
And it starts as it the ends The idea that you can't As you say one goodnight The last of all goodbyes To the brush, to your pen To all books that you've read To the lovers that come To the letters you've read As you'll never come back To create, you just can't One last time, one last sigh Close your eyes, one last breath All the doors closing in Right where we all begin
Our dreams come pure with uncertainty When all doors are closed as answers can be When everyone has turned their back on you While the chance is null and you have no clue That dream you have is yours alone It only comes once, yet with you it's grown It all starts with an idea, that you can You were passionate once, embrace dreams once again
this poem is for the poets, writers, artists who have lost their passion; may you find hope and inspiration and pick up that pen (or keyboard) again.