Too many times,
I've ambushed myself...
She can't stop crying
This girl they call Nik...
Here lies a poet, and a humble man
Yet, I believe he was his most loyal fan...
In the garden of my dreams
Lilacs run free for miles...
Kneeling on a brown stool, slouching slightly,
Apple red curls bouncing off her blue dress...
I'd like to gather my poems
and scatter them...
Blank paper on the table
pen in your hand...
Just because it was last year
Doesn't mean it has lost meaning...
Sweet dreams that you see
With your fancy and your glee...
Step through the incandescent light,
of a door that holds a magical place...
Play with your words
Like they touch the hearts...
Oh god not another poem
Not another rhyme...