Behold, all of these words
Cluttered, yet wondering
Inside my own head
Going clockwise to counterclockwise
Left to right
And back again
Traveling on they do
Like a humbled Gypsy
On an endless trip
Going in and out of places
This mind has never been before
Roaming nomadic in a bevy of thoughts
Sometimes clear, sometimes caught in a storm
Straight into new destinations to behold
Creating documents of sort
Recording all of them to this hard drive life
In a recluse motion's pen and paper
Unequivocally to insensible to self
On a plight to the desires
Of what is written in and out of spite
Searching for peace upon a solitary light
Upon a stationary yet traveling method
That shines so ethereally bright
I want to fall hard
So I can rise soft
Be one with myself
These words and all
Sometimes having the gall
Of dealing with my problems
Only to find the good
Within the purity of these earnest desires
Freeing self of each issue adorned
Just a sentiment of self
Locked and hidden
Inside this heart
Beating for a new beginning
Of this self finally being reborn
Through the ashes of complication
Towards the spirit
Of a jovial beginning
I fight in the good name of spirit
And love
And so much more
Yes, these words still cluttered
But the joy is to make them their own
I am only myself
That is all
Who knows where these words will go?
Maybe they will never be truly known
But I have myself
That is all
Or is it?
Perhaps that is only for fate to know
I am just someone
Cluttered, still wondering
All on my own
And more of anything of me
I value my soul the most
I am just someone unknown
True love in my heart
Even if I am all alone
Finding myself
Only to let myself go
Solving my own riddles
Only to create new ones to chase
There is never an escape
Of letting my spirit grow
I am a nomad in my humbled abode
Traveling onward, yet staying home
Being true to myself
Being true to one and all
After all
I am just someone…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem