I once was a traveler wishing to be free, but time slipped through my fingers like sand in an hourglass.
Now my age and suffering has come to a crossing, in between my strife and short lived life lies the future and freedom of my personal possibilities.
I am like a caged bird longing for the wind to blow between my feathers so I can be free and fly above the horizon of my dreams.
Here is where I set fire to your minds and inspire your imagination, through my words and expressions I am free like smoke from a candle left to burn in the window of my poetic vision.
Aw, and here lies my beating heart, below the open window panes it is beating for you, it waits for you to read the lines I've designed.
I know I beat to a louder drum than most, my flame is hotter than others, but my moment has always been now.
For I live for the future and dream of the past. And so the past is nothing more than a memory, and the future is now.
I have hope that my vision will see beyond this haze and I will leap into the possibilities that I am searching for, only then will my mind be as warm as my heart that burns hotter by the minute.
This is kindling for my flame, I feed it with my poetic shavings, from the past I came and into the future I blaze.
I have left a candle in my poetic window so all who gaze upon this page will remember my name.
Amanda, Amanda where aret thow? Where have you placed your poetic tongue? Have you forgotten the vision? Is there poetic justice?
I'd like to imagine that the crimes of a doomed poet is nothing more than ashes and ink smears smudged across your screen.
I the poet, none has been forsaken nor forgotten, for my heart will forever yearn for a garden to plant my poetic blossoms.
Here I have roots and a personal domain.
My mind is set free through poetry.
No cage can possibly keep my inspiration from leaping out and catching your eye.
I am a poet forget me not, for my words are yours to devour.