Sign Of A Flatline

I was sitting at my desk this morning letting my mind wonder (procrastinating), while half heartedly flicking through the AD website, and i began to wonder. How many people, poets, authours, the musical coner of the website, and anyone else i've missed out. how many of you consider yourselfs as artists? If so/not, then why aren/aren't you an artist? I pondered this and decided that i never saw myself as an artist. allways seen myself as someone with absolutly 0 creative talent what so ever... and therefor don't see myself as an artist... i wonder aobut everyone else?

Sorry This poem is pretty close to the heart, and I meant more, unfinished and unperfected than unedited. I posted this now because it felt right (how cheesy of me). the poem is much like me unfinished and unperfected. one day in teh futrue i do hope to have this poem completed, finished, more of a sign of moveing on or maybe even 'closure' because when i managed to finish this I'LL be finished and how i want to be. God look at my intropective blubbering. i jsut wanted to explain the reasoning behind my aparent maddness The anonymous P

heres another late night creation Forgotten One night. Spent in bliss Ignoring the future Forgetting the past While intoxicated by the present. One day it?ll all catch up, We hope its long in coming. For how will we all cope When years of pain come crashing down?

I never seam able I never seam able When sat at the table To voice what I know I need I want to be gay Never lead astray Yet my voice is never readied To walk out of the closet Unlike you dear abbot Would sow an important seed For then I could start To practise my art And then be happy indeed Derek There once was a man named Derek Who dreamed of a being cleric found he was gay Threw his dreams away And now loves the man named Erik late night inspiration and a bit of fiddling lead to these 'creations' P

To A From P Fleeting moment embossed with beauty Pleasure beyond compare Seeing the world anew, more real than ever Purpose and meaning enter the world Feeling younger and yet wiser Permitting that door to be opened The door with more potential than any other Potential to free you soul and see it soar Potential to gain what we all want Potential to loose all we have my love, let in and given the tour Certain only good times could follow Blinded by love, unable to see his lack Lack of feeling remorse, humanity even Realisation of the mistake wasn't enough A seemingly never ending cycle of pain Knowledge and logic wasted and useless Cracks appear in the veneer followed by a leak Compassion feeling love and humanity even Drained then stolen by my first love to A from P so my first ever real poem. more than a bit apprehensive. read most of the other poems on here and since been compelled to write and terrified to post.. how can i compare? neither rushed notmhurried now... looked over it and amde a couple oif changes from orginal feed back greatly appreciated P