Paul Moosberg Poems

I see the pictures through my sign
Of painting code while colored blind
He knew to well and drew a line
Da Vinci complex, here to find
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I want to take that star
And own it in a box
Block all spectrums far
To lock rebinding shocks
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I never speak
My spoken word
Never is said
Nor ever heard
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I weep and reap a heap of hope
For us to figure wise
We use, abuse, and muse to make
The truths of mental highs
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I question in ways when papered to word
That pleasure the days to measures unheard

I come to realize an invention that lies
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Debate and rate
With added weight
While patterns picked
Associate
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A picture says a thousand words
My mind is always seeking

Lack of sound from nothing heard
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Just figuring up i have autism.
asperger's to be exact.
And seems i can guide my mind at times.
While they tend to lend in rythmic blends,
I have a point inside them.
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All the magical ways
With the magic of days
My soul is soaring for you
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A world, in my view
My real, is okay
A view, splits into
My worlds’, on display
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