I have no distinct poetic agenda Upon the earth I wonder, With a curious mind that can't help but linger They birth thoughts that haunt me That won't let me sleep Until I spill the beans Somewhere in my mind I try to hide these meanings and I'm perturbed, What if they hurt your feelings. I spew the guts that finds my lips, Telling the stories in perfect niche A collage of mixed messages They find me together, sometimes leave me broken It's the hardest of things you will ever think It's passion, truth and beauty. Coerced into what I call the poetic trinity.