This is not a poem, for it is not at all poetic.
This is not a story, for it does not have a plot or a point.
This is not a review, for it has not been told to you befor.
Ah! What a word what a word.
What else would you call something without a name, a meaning, a point.
Without a good flow of words, without so many things.
What else would you call this thing but life.
- I write there for I am the writer. You read therefore you are the reader.
We both know who and what we are, right? Good.
I write to tell you read to learn.
I do not need to write and you do not need to read.
We do both because we want to, not because anyone tells us to.
If we did what would we be?
I would not be a real writer if I only wrote when told.
You would not be a good reader if you only read when told.
What would life be?
What would are world be then.
- In life we find many things.
Pain, happiness, love, lose, and many more.
How do we know what these things are?
Pain…It hurts right
Happy…is joy it is light.
Darkness… you can no longer see the light which brings the joy.
Lose… It is the darkness that takes the light which is the joy that makes you happy, and leaves the pain.
Pain… Is the love.
Love… The Joy of finding another. The pain in loosing them,. The lose of living for you and only you. The Light of your life. The thing the darkness tries to hide. The happy moments that brings smiles. The Love is everything you ever hoped for and all your worst night mares.
How can one say what love is? Say they know love. Do I know love?
Can I tell you what it is?
- Yes I can.
Will I be right?
-For me. Yes.
I have not lived long enough to know true love. To be able to tell what it is the right way. No one has lived long enough for that. No one.
-Because love is love.
Love is the one thing that is never the same.
It is always different. It is different for every soul out there.
Can one love someone who does not love them back? Care for them enough that they would give there life for that someone? Is this right? Is it good? Is it true?
Can it be true, when it is one sided? Is it real?
- - - - - - - - - - -
I do not know if anyone will ever read this but I am still going to but it out for the world to see. See into my mind, my heart.
If you want to know, then be the reader, the advancer of the mind, of the soul.
I am I. I am Danielle. I am the writer. I am the Cello player. I am the flag twirler. I am the animal lover. I am no other than me. That is all I can ever be. All I ever want to be, Is to be me.
This is me.
I see the world through different eyes….
I want to know why!
Why! Why I say!
Can we see all we cannot have.
Hear all we cannot say.
Feel all that is never real.
Why can I see his face every day.
Hear my words for love for him that never reach my lips to say.
Feel the need to be near him.
Is this all a dream, or a distance memories.
Why do those who have, have all that they want and more!
Well those who need, have not even what they need, want, see….
United States! Home of the free, Land of the Brave!
The free who see no evil in what they know to be wrong. But do it anyway.
The Brave who fight all there life, and get nothing.
United States! Home of the Free, Land of the Brave!
This is a good place, could be a better place.
I know this but still…. Still I cannot see all that I have for I have what I want and do not see the needs of others. Because I am not a good soul. There is so much I could do to help. Yet I sit and write for no one. No one who is some one who needs my words that I will never know. May not even see my words till after my life time. What a shame, what a shame.
I will write more in my future which may be your past. Which will be my past.
My past… A life that I will want to remember.
I will make others want to remember.
Do not forget the past, or it will be your future.
Be care full or you may end up behind this deck years from now.
Writing so you do not forget.