I enjoy writing poetry but so dark has it been.
A thought so solemnly brought from within.
So soon I will write a poem with thought.
I will light up the night soon to be caught.

And just like the words that soon will be written.
Like a flower at its end beginning to wilt.
My words and my thoughts will soon fade to black.
And the paper degrading will all but be lost.

Somewhere within these words are remembered.
Maybe by no one or maybe myself;
They’ll lie down in motion and fade out at once.
Dieing away will all that I am.

But as always again I will try
To keep them beginning hoping not to end
And one day my poem will bring out a smile.
Maybe a tear or maybe a sob;
But the poem won’t be sad it will be full of joy
Just to say I was someone somewhere some day.