you were the wintery wonderland that lies silently beautiful at the highest peaks of mountain tops.
your laughter played symphonic tones that could bring ease to the most anxious souls.
your optimism shined like a camera flash erupting in the dead of night. you were that bright.

if you know,
you must come fourth and speak.
they say that talk is cheap,
but standing up and speaking out are tasks not for the weak.

My words peep through
The veil of literature,
Like a cautious creature
With wary eyes.

My words, they swim,
Through these oceans of thought,
Darting swiftly with fear
That they might be preyed upon.

My words often fly through the sky,
Where creative feelings linger high,
But they hide among the clouds
So that they will not be grounded.

My words, I try to use them masterfully
So that I will not be quieted but rather heard.
Still, I must make sure I contribute my message,
No matter how I deliver it.

Longing to be a Writer,
a wordsmith of the spirit,
the possibility within my soul,
can I see the ability to really do it.
Aching to grow to become more,
yet so afraid to open my door,
Others will see and make their choice,
Whether or not to hear my voice.

Reality is treacherous.
Its conformity is maddening, and the rules insanely sane,
The walls of uniformity are clouded with illusions that seem delusional,
And freedom and constrictions seem one and the same,
I am a dreamer, yet I fancy myself a creator,
I build worlds from the shards of a life that lacks flavor,
I prefer the freedom of love, hope and death,
And I crave the obsession of life and birth,
I am a dreamer, and so a world of facts and truths I shun,
I am a dreamer, a dying race, under the setting sun.
But the optimism of a dreamer is maddening,
Filled with hopes and dreams that are inherently saddening,
I am a wordsmith, a romantic and some might say a visionary,
Creating universes and queens from the extraordinary,
I am a romantic, and I desire the audience of the stars,
I am a romantic, and carved on the walls of my heart are a million scars.
I am a wordsmith, building walls from worlds torn at the seams,
I am a dreamer, fleeing from the banality of life through my dreams.