Some think they know the poet well,
Who speaks with rhythm, rhymed,
And loudly with a thing to tell,
Cascades the open mind;
Of every soul upon which it fell.
Are words the voices held inside?
Found in each souls’ expanse?
Which are sent outward to guide,
All to know the soul at glance?
For won’t, within, the truth e’er hide?
K. Aldaya, 9/8/04