My Poet's Heart

Truth the Heart of a Poet Be
Is my blood running in rhymes?
where does my soul cross over
when does my heart decide

Philosophy guides me through
ne'er a day I doubt my truth
I wait for confirmation of my beliefs
and wonder when the map to the labryrinth
will be given to me

until the day my mind opens to grief
to love, to hate, to virtues and faults
until I accept the unmistakeable flaw
of life, of love, of mine own heart
I will remain in the dark
the depths of confusion
secluding and befuddling my groping sences
and so I move on through time and space
accepting a little more each day
as time goes on
through my peots heart