For such would best reflect my heart now
For in the expressing of myriad thoughts
That well of feeling has run dry of words
But then again what is poetry other than words
Most would not understand, forget feel them
It isn't a language barrier but the shallowness
Of those that speak of love, but only in words
I would feel nothing if these verses didn't ring
Since the bells of emotion for most are cracked
The gong when it hits these cracked domes
Yield nothing but subservient pretentious feels
Why then write, is a question to ponder upon
Who cares what thoughts burn behind my eyes
I write to express my fading, fleeting time here
To be then washed away like writings on sand
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