Upon life's stage
I penned my heart...

Red on pink
Blood on the cross...

The world I see
Is unique to me...

A voice says "Hi"
And eyes lock on mine...

Some poets
Have lost their way...

Who are these people?
Forced into our lives...

I walked alone
A wounded young man...

The hardwood tree stands tall and strong
The life it's lived is century's long...

A small black lantern, well used I'd say
With soot on the glass and rust at the base...

As all forms of light
Must transform energy...

The stone is hard
The wind is soft...

Why do I write upon life's stage?
I do not know...