Expressionism

The words flow from my head into the pen.

What my mouth cannot convey, the newly covered paper can.

 

Emotions and feelings fuel what I write.

I know someone, somewhere can identify with the words I put down.

 

This, this is my escape.

The darkness, anger, hurt, they all go away once written.

 

Just letting out how I feel.

It is what I needed, what I have craved for so, so long.

 

It doesn't matter the audience,

whether one person or one hundred people read, I will be happy.

 

It isn't about the fame or glory.

It is about allowing feelings and ideas and thoughts to be expressed,

 

To be expressed in a new way.

A way special to me, but also special to hundreds out there.

 

Poetry, that is what I needed.

My  thoughts have flown through the pen, to the paper,

 

And now I am done.

This poem is about: 
Me

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