As my eyes see a vision,
When it comes into my sight,
I add my personal, emotions, and feelings,
Sharpen my pencil, and begin to write.
For twenty - one years, I have been printing words,
It was never a plan, I have no reason,
The subject can be about a past, or present life,
Or looking ahead, at a future season.
An escape to reality, releasing honest words,
Often the phrases appearing in my mind,
Never knowing, when I will finish,
Will it end in happiness, or a bind.
We are here to carry our soul,
Until it is time for it to leave, on another line,
Then the human body, we admire so much,
Will expire, as it runs out of time.
The soul takes us on adventures, in this life,
As it grows, often leaving confusion, within our mind.
The Original: Tom Maxwell © 10/23/23 AD
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem