Why I gave up wanting to be a poet

The inside of my mind is a mysterious place,

It is full of many things I would rather not see.

There are ghosts of past lives and the monsters that wait to be released

And there are dreams of golden meadows and bubbling creeks,

Beside the memories of happy times passed and of woes the remain

And seem, to my heart, stain.

There have been a lot of different thoughts floating around my head lately, I'm not sure where my life is going right now and that bothers me and excites me at the same time. I think that the problem is I don't know what it is I truly want and when I look around at those I am surrounded by here, well they all know, they all know what they want. And now you know why I gave up wanting to be a poet.

PS This photo is by Lorena Arance. I love her photos here and here and what she had to say here. I completely agree with her on everything in regards to photographic processes. And she just seems like a lovely person.