I have a story to tell, it seems to write itself.
It's about a boy, who's grown into a man. He isn't famous, and he
hasn't done any great things.
Words are what he writes, simple and short poems.
But each poem has a soul, a little fragment of life.
Each one has a voice that all can hear.
This simple man hears them, in his mind and in his heart.
They cause him pain, knowing that these simple words crave is to be read.
These words want to help, the words want to heal. They want to do more than reside within this simple man.
So while you read these simple words, hear these simple words written by this simple man, spare a thought for your little voice. The one that rarely speaks, the one that may cry in silence. The one you try to hide away, beneath a mask, beneath a smile.
Listen to it, understand what it wants and how you can help it heal.
The words contained are my own voice, my life has shaped them.