On the block a writer sits on a park bench
What’s left he thinks
What’s left to write
I wrote to describe love
I found my wife
I wrote during troubled times
Found where my passion lies
I wrote to find solitude
I found a smile inside that still shines
I wrote to find family
Something tangible
That I could hold on to
I wrote to find a transition
A path to go to
When I found this lab
A place to unwind
I wrote to find the looking glass
To see through me completely
I wrote to keep from falling asleep in class
Because math class made me so sleepy
Most of all I wrote to find where I belong
In a minute I might realize
That this is indeed the answer
I wrote to find my summer wind
I wrote to cure my own cancer
I wrote to fight this illness I did it best with words
An ink pen and a notebook
I did it to impress the girls
I find myself an algorithm in rhythm
I found a prime in rhyme
I found liquid thinking is a gift
God gave
For me to share my life
With you
To find truth
Peace in pain
God must of known
Through the lightning bolts
That the electric pulses in my brain
The ones that never drain of energy
The ones that never let me stop thinking
That itches in my center
To make something out
Of nothing, to make an ugly mind beautiful
Sometimes it’s a curse to write in verse
But truly I am still grateful
I say thank you
For giving me this window to look through
Something old
Something new
Something real
Something true,

I mean it
Thank you for making my life a dream
And lending me your ear to talk too
There is no longer any regret

No more
Cause with you and me against the world

Add my pen and poetry

We are a triple threat