I have often found it helpful to let my poetry speak for itself. But as life goes on, I realize that different parts of me need a moment to breathe and explain the writing I do.

I wrote this when I was 16 years old. I was still figuring stuff out and feeling lost. So when I saw some email announcing a competition to just write a poem, I took it as a chance to just put my feelings down on paper.

Now I offer the same to you. Ten years later, the story of the week I used posted a randomly generated word for a story, sign. The first page of my poem (on word and PDF) is a sign for you to turn the page and read the second, but I cannot give you anything more than that. I'm not the sign maker, I'm just a lot of other things. Someone who struggles with time, Someone that tries to give advice, Someone that thinks things through, Someone with a huge heart always trying to help with his words, and if you need to summarize all of those, I guess you could say, I'm just one of a lot of Sages. But I'm not a single sign.