All I need is enlightenment, the ability to understand
 with full comprehension, to acquire absorb and analyze 
knowledge as fact. And a recorded text to document the
 uncaged minds ramblings through space and time. 
And maybe then, well, after I read it, I would understand
 why it is that I write. But for now, I’m just letting go. 
Pushing forth a pathetically pointless parade of whiny
 witless words for the sake of alliteration. But I need a point. 
Subject matter to mold my pointless chatter into a sculpted 
shapely verse to ease the mind and sooth the soul.
For that, I need emotion. To share the weight of my soul
 and let the light shine through my experiences, exposing the
 essence that is my humanity. I need conviction. To speak
 and write whats true to me and stand behind my words with honesty. Honesty, thats what I need. Cuz it’s easier to remember 
the truth rather than what lie I told much less to who. 
Maybe I just need to find my voice, to listen to my heart
 cry and follow my passion into the night in pursuit of 
my self-truths. Maybe then, I could get past this writers block 
and I could continue to express myself in poetic verse.
 Who am I kidding? I’m a poet,
 all I need are words