Childlike simplicity,
Rummaging through the toy chest of my mind,
And seesawing on my heart.
Skipping through my soul
As maturity slithers through my hands, and
Sensibility pushes through to the tips of my fingers.
Passion escaping onto the keyboard as I type.
While pain lingers in my eyes, I read my life on the paper.
Desire creeps in the back of my mind
And longs to be acknowledged,
But wisdom combats it and overlooks its plea.
As war plagues the crevices of the land called sanity,
Words stop , erase, retype, and erase again.
Disputes allowing the age- old enemy of confusion to invade my soul,
My source of inspiration.