People all over the world are dying.

Their prayers and hopes turn into crying.

Turn on the news and what do we see

but another catastrophe, now multiplied by three.

Seeing talks of nothing but things like war.

What is that kind of thing really good for?

I used to see the world as only gray.

Never looking forward to the next day.

What was there to look forward to if all I know

is that others are being hurt, feeding the depression its ammo.

But alas, one time I came to find

that others shared the same mind.

I beared witness to their works - what beauty!

I had finally found hope within. It was my duty.

I would write my poems with a mission,

and hope that people would stop and listen.

Through poetry, my wings have spread

unleashing chains to hold back my dread.

I no longer see the world as just gray,

but as an ever-lasting colorful day.

I finally found my joy, happiness and hope.

But is that all? Nope!

Poetry started out as a past-time

where I challenged myself to create a good rhyme.

But now I know.

This is not something that is always easy to show.

Through poetry, a fire has been lit,

and nothing can be done to stop it.

My hope for the world has grown stronger, 

and it won't pause for a second longer.

This wonderful system of writing

has finally brought me something joyful and exciting.

I wish to pass on this feeling 

in a way that seems to others appealing.

I write my poems so others can see

that they too can be set free.