A swirling pool of restless thoughts swim beneath the surface,

Walking down a low lit path, I’m looking for my purpose,

I hear the sounds of voices near, drowning out my own,

I must not let them guide the way, my resolve is made of stone.

 

How to find this “peace of mind”  when loss and struggle strike?

I found release through poetry; a pen and not a mic.

I voiced my thoughts through rhymes and rifs of feelings buried deep,

I found rest  in choosing words on nights I could not sleep.

 

The mouth was made to breathe and speak the thoughts that live above

But words don’t have to thunder to express both hate and love.

Through written word I found a pause in the quick tempo of life,

By doing so, I could at last, resolve my inner strife.

 

Not one to keep my heart exposed I battled my own head,

A pressure grew  both hot and and true of  words I left unsaid,

The geyser burst and that is when the ink began to flow,

I remedied disaster through both poetry and prose.

 

The quieter that I became the more that I could hear;

My own voice that before was lost, now free of doubt and fear.