My Poems, My Haven, My Lies

With a wave of my hand,
I can make a world of wonders.
I can write a dream
And make it fly.

Give me a piece paper
And I well show you,
With a whisper of my thoughts,
I can make it shine
With golden words.

A gift from God,
My writer mind is.
An ability to see
From every point of life.
From any view
I can wipe up a poem.

So many I have.
Lost count years ago.
But so many more to come.
This is just adding one.

These lit filled words
That fall from grace,
Fill my mind
And slip out of fingers.

Simple words I use
To fill the room.
No huge ones needed
To buy up paper space.

But all these joyful lines I write.
All this happy poems I sign.
Are more than that,
They hide my eyes
From darken places.

These words I use
They are my voice.
They tell what I see.
They show what I know.

But they hide
The darkness within.
They do not show,
If only rare,
That I am braking.

No, not easily seen
Are these wounds.
They hide in lines
And inbetween words.

The feelings I want to show.
The people who know.
They all see.
They all know.

That these lines
Hide a darkening rhyme.

**Wasn't really sure where to put this. Can't figure if it is sad or dark. Kind of both to me. Well, this is my poem. Seeing more into me, than any seem to be able to. Please, rate and comment, would be very happy if ya do. Will comment and read anyone's poems who does.**