Some One Poet Alliteration

I Want To Be a Writer

I want to be a writer
I want words to worm their way
Out of the outer oblivion orchard
Where I pick pink pieces of my mind.
I want to be a poet
I want poppies picked perfectly preserved
From the consciously created cracks of concrete
Found situated solidly in separated stanzas.
I want to be a singer
I want sounds seeping from senseful songs
Instead of trapped tearing at my terrible tongue
As my vocals vanquish my volatile vocabulary.
Unfortunately, the aforementioned is abandoned due to abysmal accidents.

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