Once upon a time, a man once said aloud for all to hear:
"There is no need for poetry."
Once upon a time, he was right.
When the darkest nights fall upon us
like a barrage of arrows
we would rather just survive.
We strive to one day have a future
where there is no doubt, but
until that last creative ember in our souls is
snuffed out, we will have a need for poetry.

Because what are these words if not
just scrap paper floating on the breeze?
What is this idea if not
just one seed among a million trees?
What is this level of depth
when measured to the deepest seas?
We live in a society where wit is defined
by how well you can put someone down...
A society where smiles/frowns,
whichever it is, they are just masks.
Hiding who we truly are.
Each one of us is a star,
some brighter than others,
but each of us beautiful and powerful in our own right
and in spite of our differences.

On many a night
I would have extinguished my own flame
just to be able to name myself a martyr.
A martyr who died fighting his demons
and whether or not I will ever win,
I'll always be aware of it's futility.
But, you see, it's never like I ever had false visions
of putting this to rest.
It never was a battle between 'good' and 'bad'...
only shades of better or worse.

And yet we would stuff our one hope
against this darkness into a funeral hearse
and wave it on it's way.
With not even a hint of dismay,
I ask you all,
is there any need for poetry?

Up here, I feel like I can open up my soul to you.
Show you who I really am.
Through each word and pause
I have encurred the awes of people
I never thought could appreciate me.
So let us let this tragedy unfold.
Who knows what the future could hold...
or what it could let go.