“This P.O.E.M. is the (Product of Every Man):
I feel I’ve come a long way,
Although there are memories in my past dark and grey,
Or I’m locked away, for forever and a day;
I still see the sun’s ray.
I’m real, in the gardens I play,
There’s nothing false I’d every portray.
Years ago, I would’ve tried shooting the light out of the sky,
Not knowing why; now I look to the sky and pray.
“Everything is going to be okay”, I tell myself in rising each morning,
If it’s not – hey!
I ran astray young, yearning for a higher power, but, not knowing what to say,
If I did then, would I still be here today?
…is He talking to me when rain showers?
Is it tears? Does He feel me, understanding my pain?
My heart used to be concrete,
Then came flowers.
If you looked inside of lifeless eyes,
What types of stories would they tell?
Would they tell anything or stay silent,
Until they get to heaven or hell?
How does a person continue living after the soul dies?
Marry me seven angels – I’m ready to fly.
My word to everyone I love, I’m giving birth to a dynasty from a prison cell;
If I don’t make it to see the ending, at least I’ll try.
…I’m simply dying to live!