The Ambition of a Writer.

I’d travel all seven seas, and spend a night in Atlantis just so one can understand the depth from which I speak.

On the days I feel all hope for my creativity has vanished,

My heart skips a beat, I begin to bleed ink,

I regurgitate my passion.

I speak,

My vocabulary expands its horizons, as my composition book fills itself with growth – and I am no master at life, but in my world imagination knows no limits.

I look outside my window, and all that appears is a blank canvas, a world unprepared for the voice of the unspoken artists…



When I fell, you looked down and turned your back.

I warned you  you’d never stop falling, now look whos hand is reaching back.

In this game the ball has curved, and you have struck out.

I ran home. You went outfield.

I mean way out there and left.

I’m sure of that, because I was right there.

The right answers with no wrong intentions.

How could you forget to mention you weren’t ready for my love?

Unsurprisingly, you stayed ready for lust.

You thrust me your heart as bait, and then you yanked mine out.

Ive recovered with numerous stitches, but you continue taunting me.

I sit and wonder, is God trying to test my strength?

How much I actually believe.

Not with my eyes, with insight.

I’m just trying to comprehend the definition of faith.

I am not a fantasy you can step in and out of. I am a Human Being.

Knowingly the Woman of your dreams, and that…

That was the reality of it all.