What am I without the words swirling around my mind, waiting for a chance to burst forth and explode on paper? I am the essence of the letters that form words and the words that form sentences and the sentences that form paragraphs and the paragraphs that form papers and the papers that form books and the books that transform lives. I am all that exists within the pages, eagerly turned, hungry, desperately reaching for that next word that will give meaning to the why and what. It is breathing, this thing with the pen, can not separate the two, can not separate me, it is the breath of my life.
"Standing On The Side Of The Road" I am standing here on the side of the road - Trying desperately not to be seen It is the middle of your busy day You do not notice me with your latte Guarding against the cold wind- Frozen inside outside walking here and there No mansion or house to put my belongings, no one to care- I am standing here on the side of the road- Not the trash you just tossed away That latte and uneaten muffin, my only meal today Standing here, shivering in the city alone No one to shelter and love me in the biting cold You are busy, I know, but see me please Life is not pleasurable or one of simple ease I once had a home and a family too Rushed through life, busy like you Forgotten and discarded in the corner cafe Wishing for more than your morning latte My only hope, made it last all day Trying hard not to be in anyone's way Standing on the side of the road It is where I live, where I grow old Please remember when you rush by T