I think I’m okay, or perhaps, I am more than...
Who knows...

Let’s start again
by writing a poem a day...

Once
I was a happy fire...

Have skies been pouring cold upon my soul?
They rain and rain, with winds not weak nor strong...

I always thought that my thoughts were my own
but more often than not...

Who I was and who I am
is not who I am going to be...

Sure, sure!
I was a flower and you were like a bee...

when I am in pain, you are in pain
But the pain you feel...

Can I tell you something?
Sometimes, you are a sheep...

Scribbling down the road,
with steps sharpened by my past...

I see the blues in the skies
with every passing cloud...

Itchy, itchy, little witch
Have you thrown a potion on my skin...