Poetry, a voice of the soul
Letting one express all that he knows
Words hint to a time when something happened
Something close to mind
The pen touches the paper
The hand scrolls from side
The mind is open
Lost is time
Poetry, a voice of the heart
A way to express ones being
Rhyming, writing, scheming
No boundaries, no doors
freedom
Taking time to a place it’s never been
The imagination of one, the imagination to pretend
Every movement, every breath, every thought is verse
Every scroll, every letter, your mind is cursed
Poetry, the voice of man,
Letting us express all that we can
Our time is ours, for now
Clouds will move, skies will change
Stars will die, but poetry will stay the same
