It Was

Mon, 07/04/2016 - 17:34 -- PoetJe


My hands shook
My heart throbbed
The pressure only increased

I was a storm restraining myself

Straining to be released

I couldn’t keep it in

I wanted to be heard

The words couldn’t escape

My thoughts a caged bird

They crashed and spun

Rage, grief, and turmoil
I could not put in structured thought
My mortal coil

I was swept in a storm

Dangling from a spider’s web
My sanity precariously perched
Begging to be saved

I wrote
I raged
My words were torn up
They landed a mosaic
It was a poem


A rhythm all my own
A product of my rage
Smoldered and shone

I created this?
This lilting composition
Passionate and alive
My turmoil’s emission

It danced and spun
Profound, pleasant, and pure
I could not put better
My feelings, I assure

I was struck by a desire
Yearning for a another chance
My inner soul despairingly disguised
Begging for a glance

I wrote

I hoped

I poured out my heart

It landed and spattered

It was a poem.



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