i will keep on
the write
the fight
bleeding from my pen

i will question my sanity
till the very end
not missing a thing
i will discover my being

Today I ran through the archives of the extensive library of memory,
in there I found various books with titles I have been longing to read;

"Days of shimmering sunshine,"
"Friendships forged for life,"
"The purple Barney I played with,"
"The best"
and "The worst."

I browsed through myriads of red and navy blue leatherbacks,
only to realize I found myself.

I found that it contained my dreams,
my fears,
my hopes
and even the reason for the selection of my favorite chocolate.

Memory reminds us of our essence.
The essence that brings tranquility to our souls on a chaotic day,
an essence that reminds us of our path that brought us to the destination of today.

Visit the library of memory often,
and remember to take a cup of steaming tea.

So I'm supposed to
Discover
Who I am
What I want
What I am to be.

Where to begin
Discovering the deepest darkest secrets
The wants and the desires
Of this person I have grown to desest.

Poetry says a lot about people,
Not just the person who wrote it.
Every person responds in their very own way;
Some so amazed they promote it.
I like to think of what goes through
The minds of those reading what I write.
Whether they recognize nothing of value,
Or whether they discover delight.

I see the world
in colors
and (h)ear
it in r(a)inbows
covering it
with a
(p)astel
of (p)ositivit(y)