2013WhyIWrite
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I've been told my poetry is good
I've been told it was horrid
I have heard that I've inspired
I have heard that I depressed
I've heard with my words I reach into your heart and play your emotions like a harp
So many faults I can point out to be true
But will that proclaim the true person in you?
People are windows that you can see through,
People are mirrors that show the untrue.
Everything that I had to be used to
So many people loved you now you're gone,
You didnt say goodbye before you left home.
You filled our hearts with so much joy,
You didn't deserve this you were a wonderful boy.
A brother, son, grandson, & friend,
People yell, scream, fight, and cry;
Poetry does not.
People gossip, slander, judge, and kill;
Poetry does not.
People steal, lie, ignore, and cheat;
Poetry does not.
I am not a poet.
My poetry is not considered poetry.
My poems are a door for me and, me alone,
They are a way for me to cope, to understand.
Nobody knows my life better than my poems,
