Writing for the Future
I’m not a poet, I’m a writer
Since I was a child, I’ve been scribbling on pages
One day your young, will be reading my work
While you’re lying to them about Satan and Santa, they’ll flee to Feltman
An escape, a trip from reality
They’ll be lost in my lovely words
While they search for meaning – Why are we alive?
They’ll come to me and live in Will’s Worlds
There will be no demons, but maybe some death
The next generation will survive because of Will
My words keep them safe while things to bump in the night
The next generation will question, no longer quiet
Why? Where? When?
The truth will be found false
My words, what make me flawless
Will help hurting children
No need for prayer, they’ll be protected