I feel like my mind is battling itself;
It is like it is straddling itself…
In one sense, adolescence is felt.
I feel myself growing in unimaginable wealth!
My imagination is felt;
All the years I’ve spent, adding up my wealth:
With knowledge and books,
I have avoided all that they have took.
Adults are like crooks,
They are not majesty, but are rooks.
They are dreamless, and are shook.
I see exploration, and I see wonder.
I see a roasted steak as I hunger.
They see money and division,
While, I see more than provisions.
We can all win in, this race.
I know we all sin, in this place.
I see jokers, as I ace.
Forever young, as I trace —
Poetic lines, as I rhyme.
My imagination, is my time.
It ticks, and it tocks.
I skip, plenty rocks…
The lake is abundant,
And my scheme is never redundant.
I speak from my heart, and I then, leak from my dungeon.
The labyrinth of my psyche.
I don’t take writing poetry lightly.
This world needs constant poetry, this world needs and desires true passion.
If you feel what I am grasping,
Then humanity has outlasted…
Our humanity inside, it is bigger than pride.
Our humanity collides, as we meet on our ride.
Thank you for reading, this is bitter sweet as I prepare for my work.
I’d much rather dream in, and speak of thoughts that just hurt.
Like love and dangerous definitions, that connect like threads on a shirt.
This is a free verse.
I don’t confine to a structure.
Thus what I see, simply hurts,
My mind is free as it is ruptured.
