INFP

Poems

Poems are what i know.

It's how I think

It's how I feel

Anything else is foreign

Nothing else makes sense

Math is Spanish

Science, French.

Sports I tolorated 

While my heart was on the bench

And my head in the clouds.

Nothing makes sense

How we act

Or how we feel

Life is an 80 year cycle

Of hurts

And heals.

My head is in the clouds,

But damn it, it's clear skies

And I can see everything this high.

A misrable poet

With love by his side

An INFP

With nowhere to hide.