A poet can lost

When words are weaved into a web of unspoken sound and syllables

It is my escape from reality

When spoken words are stuck in my throat

And I choke on wild thoughts and chaotic dreams

I can only wish for the freedom to express

Trying to dodge away from this world full of mess

And poets don't think about their success

But merely to control or surpress their reason for distress

The possible affliction from someone's dishonesty or jurisdiction

And we only try to run and flee

Until we can see an escape from the unexplainable reality

But's it only our pens

That can keep us contained

And expose our truths

Or hide us from the pain

It's our fight

Without a weapon 

We choose to wtite

In a world blocked out by dark

It's how we shed a light

And then we find ourselves to see

That someday all of life will finally be alright