I only know somethings about life . The good , the bad , and the pretty . The poetry I once had . The intellectual understanding of words , emotions , and movement . This should all make perfectly good sense . The poetry , the extraordinary science of the flexibility of words . A form that sustain durability through people , governments , and time . The embodiment of one particular person , persons , or group hidden among mankind . I’m driven by what I can find not by what I can define . The laws of this society and government does not govern or refine my beliefs that have given me the understanding that runs through my spine as relief . At least I have that as for moments of peace to increase my confidence , allowance , and necessary balance to unleash critical thoughts . A art within a science of experimenting with feelings and passions that may note you have a thing for being old fashion . Maybe I am but more or less I seek a lasting reaction from what I teach and who I can reach . A poet mind should be full of tricks and treats and of loose matter that make them unique . This is the balance to touch when using free speech . To reach the depths of the soul to plant a seed to carry on this role .