I have been sitting here staring at this page for Hours… Writing and deleting and repeating the process cause I felt like it lacked the power. What do you think… I wanna write a poem. But I want it to say what you’re thinking. I wanna patch up the holes when your boat starts sinking. I wanna write that “one of a kind” poem, that “free your mind” poem, that “I like how you made that rhyme” poem, that “I like that last line” poem, that “Can I hear that one more time? (That is, if you don’t mind.)” poem. I wanna write that “So heartfelt, I think I know him” poem, that “This is so tight! I gotta go find all my friends so I can show them” poem. I wanna write about everything that I’ve ever wanted to be. I wanna write a poem so beautiful that my parents might actually start to agree. I wanna write about you, about me, about us, about everything from cars-and-trains-to-riding-the-bus-to-the-trailer-and-trust-the-mistakes-and-heartaches. I wanna talk about when I first learned to drive and I was so scared to let my foot off of the brake. I wanna talk about battles, about wars, about victories and losses, about ethnic cleansing, genocide, and laws penetrated by burning crosses that burnt down churches. I wanna write two poems for every one who has ever been told they were worthless. I wanna speak the unspoken. I wanna face everything in our world that’s broken. I wanna be the one that performs the Heimlich maneuver as soon as our society starts choking. I want my words of inspiration to inspire somebody else to be inspirational. I want the motivation in my voice to motivate somebody else to be motivational. I want my phrases to be published, documented, and quoted. I want people to recite my work ten years from now and have critics say “That was cool, but it wasn’t nearly as good as when he first wrote it.” I want husbands to thank my poems for the heart that they stole. And I know that this, is just some shameless attempt to petrify my soul but honestly - I don’t want to be forgotten. I don’t need fame. I don’t need fortune. I just want people to know what I stood for and why I came. I refuse to die a mere occupant of the Earth, a John Doe, yet another faceless man out there with no name. I refuse to be just some other man. I wanna walk for centuries, and leave my footprints in the sand for the world to see. I wanna be cremated into ashes of rhymes and poetry. I’m just feeling like one day, they’re gonna love me. I don’t share my emotions too often. Poetry will allow me to die with my heart on my sleeve. They never saw me coming, but I’ll make sure they grieve. When I leave.