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Listen...
What's that?
It's something that most people don't do well.
Did you hear me?
Did you hear that?
If you did, then please, do tell.
...
Pause...
Were you afraid to interrupt?
Stop.
Don't talk.
If you heard me, then you're in luck.
Hear my words,
every verb.
Let them merge
with every nerve
and feel me.
I've got the nerve,
the way with words.
I get the urge
to get high like birds;
it heals me.
On it I splurge,
this, that,
and the third.
Just words,
but it thrills me,
fills me,
chills me,
kills me,
and brings me back to life again.
Life begins
when my pen
starts to spin,
then ends again
with the pen.
I'm living in
the written then.
Right?
I must.
I have to
be the one
to ask you
these questions.
Leave questions
and answers
on the outside
of the box,
passed the barriers
and blocks
of a closed mind.
All eyes on me,
so I've closed mind,
yet I still see.
I was born wise.
Be warned I'm
like thorns I
hope you get the point.
It's ointment
for dry skin.
Just let it sink in
one ear,
never to be seen again.
You see,
everything I write
takes a lot of work,
so everything I write
has a lot of worth.
It brings me to the light,
like a rebirth;
the one thing that will remain
when I leave this earth.
Long gone.
Missing.
No wait...
Listen..............
