One minute you're here, the next minute you are not.
In an instant the clock will stop, what was present now is past.
Nothing really ever last?
Express myself, make sense of things,
Just like the singer longs to sing,
Language and Arts will set me free,
bringing me Poetry.
Just to exist is not for me.
I want to leave a part of me.
Those who hear and those who see
turn chaos into dignity.
The clock will stop, but not for me,
Forever lives my Poetry.