For honesty

There's a softness around me
A tender flame of honesty
A sea with all its depth glittering
Under the Sun, waiting for evening.

What are my poems for?
Drops of precious old wine
Stored in vintage memories
Running down pages, running down time.

I want to say that I understand
I know my way around chaos;
But my knowledge blends into smoke
When there's simple truth around.

For whom are my poems meant to be?
I know not the reasons for their being;
And then why do I question my existence?
My poems, like me were meant to set you free.