A Poem

''Allow me to choose my words carefully, as sometimes what I feel does not always translate into what I say.
I yearn, yet some would say I desire.
I wish, while others would say I plead.
I weep, but there are those who say I am crying.
I want but am afraid to take.
Why do I fear? Why do I cry? why do I plead? What is it that I desire?

A poem is open to interpretation, meaning different forums of insight to every personage that envelops its hidden inspiration. Am I a living poem? Given a sound mind and body to be ravaged by wondering eyes looking for a hint of direction, a calculated give away or even a story book ending.

What I YEARN for is real happiness, not fun for fools that come and go like the wind!
What I WISH is that if I am to be read, let my words speak my soul's desire and not those of the vague at heart!
When I WEEP it's not for my transgressions already relived, but rather those that await me for I have felt guilt's wrath!

And finally what I WANT could not be translated or debated, dialoged or deliberated. For what I want may not be what you look to find for yourself or even profiled to fit at an end.
You see my ending never ends, and just like a poem it does not need to have RYME or REASON, only a moment when time stood still and only your words where left behind.''


-Ephraim Vega