some people like to say,
'a poem's not a poem until you make it rhyme'
in some respect I guess that's true,
but the most important thing is
getting your thoughts out on every line.

some people like to say,
'you aren't a writer if your work's not published'
but in truth that's not the case,
as long as you enjoy yourself,
you can jot until contented.

some people say
'you can't write about that'
but truthfully there are no boundaries,
just do what comes easy,
let your mind go on journeys.

so when a person tells you you're no good
or enforces you to stop,
let them know you're a jotter,
a scrawler,
a hoper,
a dreamer,
and none of their words let you drop.

A night of stars and galaxies too,
Wrapped up in black and multicolor,
Wringing out my idolatry; a ****** mental coup.
First, again, the third and forth as well,
A withdrawal of emotion, my payment’s in lieu.
To fret and to toil, for each and all,
Heart locked in place, while you stand in a queue.

To have you is sorrow, to forget you won’t do,
My disillusioned paradigm a macabre slaughter of squalor.
To tear within; your knife to pass through,
The tandem mechanization of a broken nous cast to Hell,
Confided in old friends when it wasn’t right to.

Alone do I sit, alone do I prove new,
A spark so fleeting; product of a scrawler.
A rebirth a second, a boy made anew,
The offensive given from inside, the brain is his cell,
Ever changing, ever warping, a wish to avoid methylene blue.