Ideas

What daily thoughts does a poet carry?
from his life, from day to day
are they his own visions, or passing images?
Of the people he passes on the street?

No matter how hard he tries to forgets
The faces of desperation behind the fears
Seem so helpless and hopeless,

He can be high today, and low tomorrow,
On those passing day, who own it?

Those moment were his, he nailed them:
A poet thought is never his own
It always  best to relinquish them into verses,
And allow his ideas to be the best of the best
He seized the moment, he frame his ideas
Eventually someone will be Inspires by his free-flowing,