She said writing poems is simple, Just write what you want to say. Then suddenly, it's simple, Or so the natural-born poets say.
They try to give the secret away, As if it were something of the everyday. Yet, what's missing is the clarity That only comes through authenticity.
Most spend their lives making food. Believing in yesterday, thoughts intrude. Life, for some, is an easy game to play. I think maybe life is the connection along the way.
Time and again, we find rejection, But it's the truth that comes from this negation. Sometimes, we are all just fighting to survive. We get choked up trying to stay above.
A lonely child longs for a mother's embrace. It can be seen in the sorrow on the child's face. Life's struggles are worse for those in poverty, Such a burden is best shared in a loving family.
Heading out of Australia to escape this Aussie winter. First stop Japan, then UK/Ireland and if work doesn't call me back, onto Chicago. I will make it up as I go along