Again I wake as always, alone, but serene, self-thought of me.
Concern to which, unpleasant note, upon this web, of friends to be.
How far to cast my thoughtful best, to stop, to rest, moment forward, direction heard, my given best.
At times I wonder if my words to written, good or bad, to be not mad.
At times I wonder if my words to written, mine to share, or ego bare.
From thought in head, better keep slow tread, perhaps mislead, left words unsaid.
Freedom journey flight, my pen does write, for every night, long moment sight.
My ramble wit song, of your doubt belong, the more too wrong, the more I long.
To guilt device, myself advise, like rolling dice, will have suffice.
At times I wonder if my words to written, reveal to steal, my thoughts to feel.
At times I wonder if my words to written, spring forth my doubt, uncertainty, what life's about.
To this end of mends, I seek true friends, life's many bends.
This world around, good words abound, written to word loves word sound.
So to those who sing, and love they bring, can trust one thing.
That as long as we, speak honestly, my Words To Written, free love to thee.