Poetry is a look into my lovely worded anxiety,
Of my future, dreams, mindset, and theme of who I used to be.
Questions left unanswered, never to be answered,
Further ruining my mind, from the wasted time.
Every word a relic of the past,
Laughs irrevocably last,
But defining who I am,
Changes every week.
From the millions who will speak of He,
For generations, and millenniums of my hysteria.
They will question why I did not lead them,
With my specialty of keeping myself beneath me.
Another question forms from this ability,
If I will let myself go—to a higher place,
Allowing my inhibitions leave, for the sorrow souls,
That wish me to play their savior role.