Write What You Know

they say write what you know but growing older I no longer know and things I knew I have forgotten like rusty unused tools my father left the inconsequential things I knew are memories strewn about my floor age is an awful prison that weds us to a spot in space to dream of freedom in daydreams youth can come again and humble travels can be undertaken where would I go you ask and easily I'd write the things I lost I'd write the things I wrote childhood days and woodland haunts enchanted forests with nearly visible dinosaurs and mysteries concealed I'd write as I wrote of the waters black, green with moss and sustenance I'd tell of trustworthy comrades and commitments sealed with blood I'd write of an expanding Universe and finding love in an upturned chin I'd write of all the pain that's know for all the souls who wake alone there is a dearth of inspiration growing into unknown years I cannot write the known where I have never been before but I still feel it deep within that once I inhabited the void so I am left to chronicle a feeling nurtured where the stars are reeling there comes and end to pain an end to loneliness I have not been so I can't say much I go there soon to never write again