It appears
people don't enjoy the beating of my heart...

I lost the pen which had the ink with dreams
So I then searched for it within my hair...

I'll write about the color white
just take a look and see the sky...

If I were shooting stars traversing skies,
it'll be because I am in search of you...

Oh pain that in me reside,
Won't you leave my loving heart...

This darn fear that through the years
has been tearing my heart apart...

When love arrived and settled in my life,
I did not feel an earthquake move my ground...

You want to be a flower - red or white,
just like those roses in the pots of clay...

With pen on hand, I wrote my heart on lines
as Nights came walking, running with my Days...

Have you ever felt lost? Not the type of lost...
I mean the type of lost where while you type, you...

Oh mother gracious!
What is this...

It is through you, my beloved, poetry
that I have found a universe...