I think alone,

Poets defy,With their rhythmic cry,Thru all our times,The odds.And if words make it,Out of their pen,What joy is felt,Forever, then!

There I can writeWhat I dream,Converse with the Stars,Say hello to the MoonSki, on the SeaOf blue Poetry,Be Happy,And,Finally,Be Free.

Maybe that is why,We are always knocking,At Hell’s Gate.

Love traveled the Planet,Endlessly,Just to find,That Life is onlyA dream like moment,Of Fantasy.

Of anything?Even the word,DecipherHas a desperateRing,Of Nothing,In Everything.

May make you fall apartBut they’re the bestPart of creativity,Projected into Human Art.