No Strings Place On A Being Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Waking to music, getting ready for another day of life, finding
and looking for reasons of living that are important and con-
tributing to mind and intellect.

Waking up from a deep intense sleep, dreaming extraordinary
dreams of life, love and family, poetry being written even while
asleep.

Coming to mind in these dreams, unafraid of anything coming from
dreams being remembered, a long-lasting atmosphere that takes
mind and intellect into wakeful dreams every night and day.

Getting up, walking into a morning routine, just to be able to
listen to music and write poetry, wandering freely through life,
never at a loss in an interior atmosphere on a solo journey.

Lonely, but being free of another, no strings placed on a being,
worth it not having anyone to love or just let a being be who
he or she is.

Instead, always wanting to change or alter a poetical being in
ways they think they could be improved, turning away, going in-
teriorly to a safe place inside.

Shredding all the garbage that other people try to bury one under,
all of it their own ideas of what a poet should be like, brushing
them all off, continuing to be just who they are exactly.

Will there ever be a day in the future when people will come to
accept a poet for who they are, not trying to change them? Why do
people think they can improve on innate talent that God, Himself
has given them?