At your lowest point, where your never thought you'd be. Well, that was me. With no one to turn to, but with so many things to let out. Bottling up everything, left me shouting all about. One day, a girl, Grace, read me her poetry. I thought about my first poem, in 4th grade, about a tree. Slowly, my intrest for poetry grew into a passion. Helping me heal, and express, releaving me from my depression. Poem after poem, filling notebooks, and drawers. I was able to release myself, and so much more. Some use dance or singing, but I write poetry. And thats just a little about me.