Freedom

It was a happy place

rainbows sunshine colors toys

But now, it's far less - 

It's a place filled with

formailties, correctiveness, commas...

And this was the breaking point.

The point where the punctuation was being

pLaCeD.

 

Perfectly in all its horror,

life was making its mark...

on me, her, him, us all.

And with it, I was blacked out by the sharp point and dark ink.

Formalities - like the paperwork due and the need to file taxes.

 

It was part of growing up of course,

it always is.

It's not really what any of us wanted

or even imagined for that case.

We popped out surprising even ourselves.

Our smiles wavering as the pen kept scrawling.

 

Over our thoughts and dreams and everything in between

slowly painfully scarring

No formalities.

 

In its own existence, life wouldn't back down

it kept up with the pace and often ran ahead.

And we sat there with papercuts

and clueless horror.

This was our horror this time.

 

Finally, I took the pen.

It was a formality, a part of growing UP.

And I wrote.

and wrote

wrote

wrote

wrote

my own story

 

Without formalities

and pain

and with colors

and it became who i am

 

small voice drifting in a very big world

simply escaping the sorrows that are normal

smiling as the pen wrote

- no sorry, as I wrote with the pen.

 

In a happy place

rainbows sunshine colors toys

This poem is about: 
Me

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