Just thinking about that feeling you get when someone helps you,That tingle that radiates from your brain and oozes down your spine
I dont know whether its the same for everyone but I'd thought you would like to know,But then again whats to sayyoud want to know at all?
Is it right for me to assume the pose of a story teller?
Can we believe in a poem with no form - a string of questions posed out of bytes?
Flow of thought is always tainted by the act of transcription,
Is a true poem then one that is never transcribed?
Is a poet a poet or merely a translator - a pontifex - a bridge to the mind?
Do we merely attempt to interpret the impossible ; is this futile?

lines 1 - 5 were the starting point and bear no significance to the rest of the ' poem'