It started with a pen of great power

Through which I sought to hold forever

It ended when I lost that tool

And thought I now was without rule

 

What I couldn't have

What I didn't think I could achieve

Was always within my reach

As ripe as a freshly picked peach

 

My wonder wound its way

Through my inner most being

What I thought was a problem as enormous as space itself

Was in fact me doubting myself

 

I inquired my mentors

I asked my friends

I questioned myself

Should I put poetry away on a shelf?

 

"No"

"No"

"I have no idea on this earth or in heaven above what to do nor what I know."

The answer that I did not know was poetry was a part of my present, my now

 

Giving up was an option

But risking the loss of what could be a part of me

Was not something I was willing endeavor

I knew only that my mind was clever

 

I knew that without my instrument I trusted so much

I could still be a clever girl

I could still be who I wanted

I could still write well and flaunt it

 

Poetry is the bang to my boom

The mush to my shroom

The flash to my zoom

And the bed to my room

 

Poetry, my zone of relaxtion

Poetry, my real life application

The reality where I can be myself

The form of writing like nothing else

 

What I couldn't have was the knowledge of where I will be led

But the knowledge of where I am is what I'm read