And it's true, all this time,
I've been like a lagoon...
To think that I have been writing
since I was 10 and I don't see...
I stood shallow
in the core of my living body...
War, I rearranged your letters,
And I found out...
Caught within a memory, the world continues on
it's mad rush headlong to oblivion, yet I am...
You that flutters in observance
From up, an olive tree...
It beckons me once more...
but I am no longer the joyful child...
Look at me.
No, really see...
--
there's a cast of words...
When you join this life
you volunteer...
What's the purpose of a poem?
What's the purpose of a rhyme...
To be just me, that's all I yearn to be.
But who is this me, whom I want to be...