I rave to live-
to fully hold and love my life.
I rave to be.
I rave because there is a fire in me
that only death can quench
and I can’t help but note
that I’m not dead yet.
I rave because that fire hurts.
I rave to hear my own voice
and know I still have it.
I rave because I can’t help it.
I would rave even if I didn’t want to.
I rave because The Poet raves,
the child raves,
the visionary raves.
I rave because there’s a lot to rave about.
I rave to find out
if anybody is listening.
I rave to verify that I am not crazy-
that it’s the world that’s loco
and only the dysfunctional thrive
in a crazy world.
I rave to connect, to share, to bond.
I rave to alienate. I hate that. But so be it.
I rave to tell the truth
and avoid the tarpit of bullshit
that covers the globe of men.
I rave because I can’t sleep.
I like it cool, to slumber.
This fire inside burns too hot.
I rave because I can, I should, because I must.
I rave because to rave is to live. I want to live. I do!
I rave because
silence equals death.
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