I write because it’s a wicked road and sometimes you got no one to hold
So you have to make it right and sometimes dare to take that ride
The road coming towards me Is something new and unpredictable
But I’m going to conquer nature itself.
I write poems I want to create
So I fill my papers with echoes of my heart,
Then fold them into paper airplanes,
And watch them fly.
I don’t care about yesterday or even tomorrow,
All I care about is the here and now,
I’ll always be that boy who watched the clouds roll by,
Listened to the birds sign,
And always wondered what bark was made out of.
Many pass judgment on the poets, who dare to create,
Who dare to shake the status quo,
Who dare to question,
Who dare to dream,
But even in the darkest of nights the sun will rise.
So burn your fire bright, and forget about the fright,
Let your fire burn and set the world ablaze with thumos,
Because as a poet, dreamer, writer, artist, or seeker of knowledge
We all dare to envision a better world created by our hands,
Not by the hands of others.