Author Information
Ascendancy
Folder:
Hand Written "To think,
back when I had asked
the exhausted man looking back,
eyes bloodshot,
cheeks lined with scruff,
sweat on brow,
mr. mirror, who are you?
Why are you here?
To think,
years ago, barely alive,
that five more since then
I'd be sitting in this chair,
typing away like I once did,
amid all the vivid scenes
that replay in my head,
when I could be dead,
instead flit the pen,
the flutter it dances across the page,
signing
not my life away,
but my name,
in another book,
the fifth,
the poetry that has kept me alive,
kept me going,
from the time I wanted to die,
words spinning for no reason
to now,
hard to believe
that perhaps destiny
kept me writing,
and I have succeeded.
Not in making it big,
not in making money,
but making art.
Five years apart."
