I Exposed My Soul
Oh yes I had my childhood diaries...
The same entries that 'Beaver Cleaver had...
...went to school
...played at recess
...had lunch came home'
Same words.......same day..... after day
English being my worst subject
I had to be tutored to get a 'C'
Still can't spell my way out of a wet paper bag
But that all changed one night in February a year ago
I started out as a great dime store rhymer
(Maybe a nickle...I do tend to exaggerating a bit)
Tried my hardest to come up with words
that would even resemble the great classics
But always fell WAY short
Until I learned I was writing for myself
Not for others to read and critique
Yes...I was writing for me...
and then the words came
Words full of emotion I never knew existed in me
Some maybe I should have left there
Some better to have let go...released to the page
And through it all...
a journey
That no one can take from me
only if I choose to let them
All this from that first night
I exposed my soul
Inspired by Meggie.....thanks
Mar 29 2008
© 2008 (All rights reserved)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You are so right. The poets best work, I think, is written to self, from the heart. And each poet is different. I always wanted to write with descriptions like in the writings of Vachel Lindsay. I still get chills when reading 'The Ghosts Of The Buffaloes, ' but, try as I may, I guess that's just not my style. Maybe, I have no style but I too write to please myself. Thanks, I thoroughly enjoyed this piece. Richard