poetaster

in the heart of darkness
always exists a solitary contentment within me
its not happiness
just an balance of sorts
where I find myself smiling
and settling
and breathing

all that I write is just a reaction to life
its not planned nor pertinent
its not a reflection of what surrounds me
but rather what is within me
pulling the weeds out of my mind
and replanting them here
where some can grow
and others diminish into nothing

by and by I know that in the end of this life
i'll see myself wrinkled and old
standing in front of a mirror stark naked
ugly and puckered
and let loose a grin
because underneath it all
i am happy