This isn’t poetry exactly, more just my thoughts expressed here.
As I sit here and stare at a blank page,
Admiring it, in all of its pristine glory,
Looking all clean and neat,
Like a pond with a calm breeze,
I sit and wonder,
“Where to start?”
“What to say?”
It comes naturally.
In this space,
I can say almost anything I like.
No one lording over me here.
Never a deadline or a single care.
I’m my own editor,
So I say whatever I dare.
Sometimes the rantings of a madman come.
So I unleash them upon the page with reckless abandon.
Consequences be damned!
Care and caution in the wind.
Rant mode is a dangerous place.
Would I say that to someone’s face?
You’d be surprised what I’m capable of.
It’s not like I can’t self-edit.
I have the skill set and all.
Maybe I just choose not-to.
My choices are what matter in this space.
The question is always where it ends,
To reach some sort of positive conclusion,
Pray tell, what is my point to all of this?
Pretty sure there’s something to tie this all together.
Sometimes calm, loving thoughtful passion strides in,
So I choose carefully the words that come forth.
Love and Light to you all.
Let’s come together as family.