I want to be wild
and carefree
but I’m shy and reserved

I want to be crazy
scream out great truths
but I’m afraid to

I walk alone in my art
I have a powerful song

But something keeps
clipping my wings
I’m older
and want to fly away

I, this outcast –
reclusive writer –
who doesn’t behave
in a normal way

I create with fear
I’m grounded
from fear of power
I have at my fingertips

Fear to be different
Fear to be solitary
This is not me
I can’t be an artist
I’m not a distinguished
intellectual either

I’m a mad individual
flapping my blue wings
to fly into the cosmos
and bring back the
celestial stranger
that is inside of me


  • :

    I was watching spoken word poets and had a yearning to be like them



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