i lay my life before you, what you see is your own choice,
yet when my past is entered i am seen without that voice,
the person then is different now, she has suffered through the pain,
so winter past has gone to spring, yet mind's read is filled again,

if your words were taken from your life; written out of context,
for all the world to see, and read out of order, last to next,
oh no, those secrets can be kept, safetly tucked away in quiet,
i'll never know unless you tell, when your life was in riot,

a poetess who is oft times seen as something she is not,
ahhhh, well, i guess this is my choice, my life's chosen lot,
please don't wreck havock on my life, for a past that is so buried,
these things i share are open hearted, please see happy not harried,

some of my poems are timeless, yet for some there is the time,
to see me as i have come to be, writing new intristic rhymes.
i go along this path called life, and see so many things,
that others say they never saw for it is not their way,

i lay my life before you, what you see is your gift from me,
so when my life is entered i am sharing my autobiography.
~*~