nothing else but my heart's desire [COLLECTION] | FINISHED

Move forward, writer - ORIGINAL POEM

Struggle to live, struggle to move,
To be my own person this day,
And be as I wish to be,
To live my own life, my own way,
I find its hard to move from bed to floor,
To do the things we all must do,
I find its hard to leave my home most days,
When the world is calling me, all too quickly and too soon,
I'll find a way to breathe, to live my own life,
Not according to others and what they wish,
But as free-form as my writing, as carefree as the snow, rain and wind,
As matter-of-factly as the birds in the sky, as the seas full of fish,
But its hard to breathe, its hard not to drown, its hard to find the words to convey how I feel, as though I'm losing time. I cant push back and I cant escape the concept of sand running through my fingers, if I sit and dwell, hoping only to say all I wish to say, to make it pretty, digestable, all wrapped up in sweet, simple rhyme. But that cannot be, as short as it ends up when you close the book and draw your final conclusions, thoughts and ideas on the things I say, as you sift through my guts to pick out the things which you and only you can make sense of. I only hope I have given others the tools to break free from their own shackles of time, always running out of time, as I search for meaning not in words, but in the world around me, finally taking what little courage I have left and putting one foot in front of the other, in the name of progress, in betterment, in love. Love is our salvation, in a world full of self-doubt and fears, it grounds us and brings us home, but it is also hard to find, as I am still searching, always searching, eternally searching.