Writing for the Future


I’m not a poet, I’m a writer

Since I was a child, I’ve been scribbling on pages

One day your young, will be reading my work


While you’re lying to them about Satan and Santa, they’ll flee to Feltman

An escape, a trip from reality

They’ll be lost in my lovely words


While they search for meaning – Why are we alive?

They’ll come to me and live in Will’s Worlds

There will be no demons, but maybe some death

The next generation will survive because of Will

My words keep them safe while things to bump in the night


The next generation will question, no longer quiet

Why? Where? When?

The truth will be found false


My words, what make me flawless

Will help hurting children

No need for prayer, they’ll be protected


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