How it started.

Poem to a loved one I wrote. 

The love exploded on paper from the ink. 

Feelings withheld released.

The unknown came to life. 


Smart used to never characterize me.

Then she lit my life up.

I never realized she would be there to be my lifejacket.

She gave me the sign.


The time I started to write was because of her.

Separated and hurt, we both are.

I wrote to her for a closure.

A need for a response. 


That's when realized I had a talent.

I was good. Great even.

So words became ink,

and thoughts became real.


The thoughts to me are precious.

I felt freedom from a cell.

I felt release from my mind. 

That is what poetry means to me. 

This poem is about: 


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