Sometimes my handwriting is frenzied
angered
passionate.
Other times it is calm
rounded
perfect.
Handwriting reflects my mood
and how fast I wish to get my thoughts on paper.
I write about life
love
and the pursuit of happiness.
What is happiness?
Will we ever have it?
Or will we always have to pursue?
I write of wishes
hopes
and dreams.
Of longing
I long for so many things.
And butterflies
mariposas
Who wouldn't want to be one?
They are beautiful
full of life
free to fly.
I write of the world
the holocaust
our blood-stained history
The universe
the renaissance
and beautiful beginnings.
Make love
not war.
But now I'm getting off track.
Was I ever on the track?
I guess that's what I love about poetry.
No one criticizes when my mind wanders
when my thoughts run free across the page.
