When the walls are closing in 

And my spirit is shattered

Or I've surpassed my level of tolereance 

Though to most speech is soothing, for me that is not the case

In a pen and paper i vent

From my feelings I'm granted deliverance

Every stroke of the pen is a stab to my oppresion

Every sentence minimizes my aggression

Back and forth my pen slices my demons

A parry here, a quinte there

My emotions are lain bare on the paper

Though the pain is immense, the power of the pen is greater

Poetry my blade and shield, Oppresion has no chance

So when asked why I write,

It is for salvation from my plight

Poetry