With words I have nothing to say

They can't hear me speak anyway

I am the shadow on the wall

The memory forgotten, nothing else, that's all

I disappear before your eyes

Drink the sacred water before it dries

We paint the mural of life

But the paint is our blood, our strife

There are skeletons in the closet, they want out

Reality is a dream; it's everything I doubt

This poem makes no sense, to those who have no imagination

The ones who never give their fantasies elation

I am a humble dreamer, with eyes that seek the sun

At the days end I wonder if the strands of sanity have come undone

There is no simple meaning to the flow of words

One follows another like a flock of birds

They flow so simple, so smooth

Into your heart, into your soul, words move

Sit back and listen to the flow of my mind

It may not make any sense but it has a beautiful rhyme.