When I was a young boy
Many many years ago
I looked upon my life with joy
Running back and forth, to and fro.

My mind would boom, pop, and dance
my imagination had no bounds
sitting in a quiet trance
never forgetting the sounds

I came home all sweated
and I saw all old and worn
the sight sweetly silhouetted
and then, my heart torn

The beast with leathery skin
The red hot spikes sprouting from his skull
And his cruel blackened grin
when my mind went null

Across lingered the cloaked one
His face a grim facade
A soul in hand, he thought such fun
It was then I realised that we are doomed flawed

And now I am grown
my life is a sickly fray
and to all, let it be known
that once again I wish to be in my Fantasy Gray

I find myself doubting,
wondering what to do with this blank sheet.
Looking for ideas, “what do I do”.
when it comes to me.
A poem.
The curving letters the poets of yore inscribe,
make me tremble in awe-ful wonder,
glimpsing the possibilities of this one slate,
I start spilling my bubbling thoughts,
pouring my everything onto this page.
And I find myself thinking,
maybe this time,
maybe this time, I wont be disappointed.