It all starts with an idea, that you can
Feelings come between now and then
Thoughts come running through your head
All the time is ripened for what could be said
Then it takes what was yours
It just breaks all your core
And you'll never know why
You gave in just for more
All the sights and the sores
Painful cries as they court
And you'll never know why
You take in, lust yet torn
Sometimes I fear the feeling of contentment
Of completion and accomplishment
Because afterwards I'll never know
If the passion dies, or if I'll still grow
Then it stops what you start
It just drops from the heart
And you'll never take back
What you gave just for art
All the lies and the lores
Faithful eyes now they tore
And you'll never know why
As you come back for more
And it starts as it the ends
The idea that you can't
As you say one goodnight
The last of all goodbyes
To the brush, to your pen
To all books that you've read
To the lovers that come
To the letters you've read
As you'll never come back
To create, you just can't
One last time, one last sigh
Close your eyes, one last breath
All the doors closing in
Right where we all begin
Our dreams come pure with uncertainty
When all doors are closed as answers can be
When everyone has turned their back on you
While the chance is null and you have no clue
That dream you have is yours alone
It only comes once, yet with you it's grown
It all starts with an idea, that you can
You were passionate once, embrace dreams once again
this poem is for the poets, writers, artists who have lost their passion;
may you find hope and inspiration and pick up that pen (or keyboard) again.
