Looking back

Read some of my old poems, came back to write this :)

Here I am, back at this empty page.

Cheerful and happy, without my rage.

What to write? What do I really feel?

Honestly, I do not know what to reveal.

Hatred is such a strong word, they say.

Yet we all use it, some even day to day.

My hatred of things has shifted and changed.

Was it hatred, or was I acting strange?

My strength has left me, that is true.

But dont take this as a bad taboo.

I mean sure my heart is a bit colder,

But isnt this better? Giving in to the molder?

We are all one, that is what I have learned.

Yet I still do not know why I even returned.

Perhaps it is the insult of the blank page?

As like an actor cannot stay out of the stage.

I learned new things, which I cannot really explain.

My weaving of the words, I am trying to maintain.

I wish I could say something of actual use.

Yet heart still smiles as my thoughts are set loose.

You know I can write, for as long as I breath,

Because I will always write, when I am in need.

Letting the thoughts free, into carved stone.

Will remind you of your weakness, now overthrown.

I will leave you with a reminder, my welcomed reader.

Listen to the voices that come within the heart.

Ignore apathy, who is a loud convincing preacher,

And remember what gave you your fire from the start.