I'm a 47yr. old man that feels like his time is short, but despite myself. I'm still breathing.
My poetry is dark, but its the only time i write. I feel so comfortable when i go down in it. I never want to come back.... yet as i'm in it i hate it. (Confusing i know)
I have done ALL my writings in times of shear depression and Isolation.
My life hasn't been easy by any means,And I except full responsability for the decisions I have made in my life, yes the good the bad and the ugly. . If i can make the bed, well then I'll lay in it.
Its hard for me to think of myself as a poet,
sounds lame to me.I think it has allot to do with the way i was brought up. I write when i feel it. And it some how allows me to rise from darkness and into the........well i'm not in that thing ill say around the living. lol
Anyways that's it fur now...if you happened to read any of my porms or your about to. I want to thank you now and hope you take what ever you get from them and keep it as my gift. ...