Words flood my mind and dreams
Bringing me out of sleep to scribe them.
To nurture them to life.
Purpose? They are a Purpose.
To confront and conquer
To make everyone aware of them.
The words of a poet (wanna-be).
Power of the pen and paper.
Words written in fancy books, plain script.
My pen seems to always send love messages.
Betraying the whispers of my heart and head for all to see.
Can't hide behind my words for only so long.
They say we empower you.
We are your voice.
We are a meaning for living.
With them I trade one slavery for another kind.
Laboring forth words for the redemption of my soul, love, and wisdom.
Giving glory ot a kingdom beyond me.
My tongue speaking truths that bind me to the craft.
Freedom to move from my sub-consciousness to draft to reality.The words of a poet (wanna-be).
In love with it, I can't escape.
If it kidnapped me, I wouldn't care.
To be in the presence of such creativity is a honor
that I wouldn't pass.
Search far and wide over the landscape I will go.
For the expressive ebbs and flows I want to know.
The more I write, the more I crave.
The sunshine of my days and stars of my nights.
Its temptation as a sweet as agave
When I surround myself with kin thinkers and shapers of verse.
Push further they say, reach your depths and it will purge forth.
More I begin to see that these words are of a poet (wanna-be).