My soul no longer weeps,
Therefore poetry is rarely created.
Though when asked for an answer to some simple question,
People remark
Oh how poetic your words.
A wordsmith you must be.
And so I guess poetry is ingrained into my very being.
And it’s weeping will flow through my life
Like a river running to quench the thirst of a hungered man.
My existence therefore
Will be to bring words to life.
To bring sunshine to the grey pavements which are the minds of those who have fallen asleep, and no longer see rainbows in the petrol stains left by leaking cars.
And who no longer want to feel the weight of the world.
Poetry will always be my purpose.
My soul
My soul is full and overflowing.