Years ago…
Poetry woke me up
The muse, it screamed aloud
Within all things came alive
Attentive salvation
Erupted within, all at once
A canvas was given to me
With a paintbrush of reflections
A palette carrying my blood, sweat and tears
Providing the very identity of who I was as a whole
In the quintessential direction I was looking for
At that time, in all of my younger life
And then I was inspired
Wrote of love, nature and anything I could find
Rhymed too much at first
Taught myself to be freed of the chains of my own mind
As the natural tendencies of self, poured in with natural power
An epiphany, a huge step in finding the secrets
Of this past enduring life of mine
Wrote to lovers, to the dream of love itself
Towards pain and pleasure
Amongst the darkness and the light
Flew high in the sky
Proclaimed myself a plague and a disease
Learning to take control of every emotion
One poem to another
From gloom to doom
To love and devotion
Sometimes fictional adaptions
A poetic plethora of eclectic design
Finally I could feel as though I did something right
Though I admit in the past
Was never happy with where I was
A poet not liking the way things were created by self
Yet, I still kept writing
It became a history lesson of my own evolution
One to this day that will never stop, I promise myself that
Poetry woke me up years ago
This muse saved my life
I do not know if I am much or more of anything
All I want to do is, Write! Right! Write!
Yes, Poetry saved my life!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem