I WRITE AS I THINK OF WHAT I THINK

I sit looking at the white blank page , thinking

Of what appears comes as quite a suprise

My thourts at the time

As I do not know what will be upon the

One white blank page

Writing or should I say typing out my words

Is my way of talking to others I may never meet

My thinking of the world , yea of my life now and

Then , of years ago

Looking on , not a part of anything to be truthful

An outsider , not rely apart of any circale of freinds

Or group , not rely knowing how to be apart

Always '' the stranger'' , never rely '' one of them ''

Just me , sometimes needed , but really if ever wonted.


The stranger , with strange ways.


Ken D Williams ( THE DYSLEXIC POET )




ALL RIGHTS RESERVED





Poetry by ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 221 times
Written on 2007-11-29 at 17:01

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