This is what I feel when writing poetry...
My heart and my soul are set free...
They can roam the universe...
Without any fears...
Poetry is the fuel for my dreams...
It is my way to show the world who I am...
I feel liberated...
For poetry is not just nice words and sonnets...
It is  way of life...

I wish I could speak many languages...
So I could tell you "I love you" in all of them...
I'm starting to believe I speak a different language from yours...
For my words go totally ignored...
Whatever it is...
It seems you and I will never be able to speak to each other in the language of love...
I will keep saying "I love you"...
Even though you don't understand me...

I carry a foldable chair wherever I go...
I found everything around me inspires poetry...
And the chair is not because I get tired...
No, it is just that I love life...
And everything around me...
And I lose my breath just by admiring my surroundings...
So if you see someone in a park...
With a pencil in hand...
A piece of paper...
Seated on a foldable chair...
And looking at the world as if it was the first time he is seeing it...
That is me...
Trying to describe the world through verses and sonnets...

It is winter time now...
Daylight savings time is over...
The clock fell back one hour...
But time does not stop...
Time does not know of summer or winter hours...
Time just runs...
Endlessly...
The clock can fall back...
But we can't...
We are guests in the infinite river of time...
And we sail in its waters...
Every second gives us the chance to be happier than the second before...
Don't think of time...
Think of happiness...
Life should not be measured in time...
But in happiness...
Never let your soul fall back...
Leave that to the clocks...
As for time...
Just remember the times when you are happy...
Time makes no sense when we are not happy...
I wish, my dear reader, a happy voyage in the  endless river of time...

Waited by the porch....
Longing for someone to ask for sweet words....
I can only offer poems..
No one seemed to want a poem...
People were only asking for sweets..
Everyone was in a hurry..
No one talked to me...
I guess the poet costume did not work...
But then again..
Who can describe a poet...
I will wait for another year then...
I still believe poems are a treat..
To the ears who want to listen to the soft whispers of a poem..
Or the souls that rejoice at these words...
As I see it, the world is a poem...
At least my world...

So this is what they call feelings...
I wish these were happy feelings...
It is painful to have feelings...
And feel rejected and ignored...
In my case...
These should not be called feelings...
These are saddings...
As my heart is crying...
I wish I lived in a world where feelings only existed in case of happiness...
But I'm human...
And I laugh and cry...
And I'll always have feelings...
Either happy or sad...
I wish,  my dear reader, that your day is happier than mine...
As sad and heartbroken as I am...
I can only wish happiness to everyone in this world...
Even to the girl who broke my heart...

You stomped on my heart...
You had no mercy...
Always making me believe you had feelings for me...
Now I feel used...
It is a mystery...
Why do I keep caring about you...
After the way you treated me...
Maybe I'm still in love...
I will never stomp on your heart...
But I will not allow you to stomp on mine any more...
This is the last sentence I ever write for you...
You will probably never read it...
Is all the same...
All these years I have been writing to the wind...
What a funny feeling...
I love you...
But I don't respect you...