Young Writers Society

This is kind of a scattered poem. It has a lot of lines that are way too long such as

This man that lives in me is a wise man yet I rarely hear him speak

There is another within me.
He is a wild man,
Laughing and cavorting around in merriment;
Brothers we are
This man that lives in me is a wise man,
Yet I rarely hear him speak
There are words that do not reach these aging ears.
There are whisperings that only the spirit can hear,
Kept from my knowledge,
Yet subtly made known as the two schemers exchange secrets;
A fallen angel
Whose mind was made without limitations-
For he came from a place without confines,
But here he risks losing himself,
For the mind must travel a long way to return from where it began.
He leaves at first light
And returns late at night
And whispers his wild tales ---> these three lines are too jerky
So that I cannot sleep from the exhilaration of it
Sometimes he is gone for a long time
And I fear he will not return,
But he always does
And his stories restore strength to my weary limbs.
For I am old,
But I will lean against his shoulder,
And he will feed my his stories,
And my eyes will twinkle with wonderment
As I listen in the twilight.

There is another within me
He is a wild man
Laughing and cavorting around in merriment
Brothers we are
This man that lives in me is a wise man yet I rarely hear him speak
There are words that do not reach these aging ears
There are whisperings that only the spirit can hear
Kept from my knowledge yet subtly made known as the two schemers exchange secrets
…A fallen angel
Whose mind was made without limitations
For he came from a place without confines
But here he risks losing himself
For the mind must travel a long way to return from where it began
…he leaves at first light
And returns late at night
And whispers his wild tales
So that I cannot sleep from the exhilaration of it
Sometimes he is gone for a long time
And I fear he will not return
But he always does
And his stories restore strength to my weary limbs
For I am old
But I will lean against his shoulder
And he will feed my his stories
And my eyes will twinkle with wonderment as I listen in the twilight