Poetic Flow- The Only Existence I've Ever Known

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I couldn't imagine a life where my words weren't created through a pen.

How am I supposed to change the world if my story isn't heard?

We would all become subjects of a painful world's end.

I remember the nights my mom told me to cut off the lights,

rest my eyes and have a peaceful night,

but it was hard to tear my eyes away from the pages,

even harder for my mind to stop overthinking multiple words swaying back and forth like a pendulum.

Those same words would be the hope I needed to believe in myself again.

Poetic flow, my only release when the world doesnt seem to understand the way my heart and mind goes.

I guess it's safe to say I wouldn't have found my purpose in life if it wasn't for the pen,

because it was through writing that God showed me another side of myself that I never want to depart from.

Poetry is my healer, my motivation for change not only in myself, but in the way that the world does things.

Some people have the music and the rhymes,

but it was poetry that practically saved my life.

So how can I manage to tear myself away from something that I've always known,

after all, is it not because of your past that you are able to grow?

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