Poetry is the start of the stars to the moon

You may take off, only to land among the stars and watch everything from outside

Poetry once opened from a tin-can, is like a million killer bee's gently singing a hum in your left ear

It reminds you of how your mother sang when a baby

Poetry is your first breath, your first step on earth, into a world of what you make of it

Poetry is the first scab you get when you fall off your bike without trainer-wheels

Poetry is how you feel when your father holds you tightly and wipes your tears away from the fall

Poetry is how you feel when you enter a stage against a room full of dark faces that are watching your every move

Poetry is the final applause, that makes your cheeks pink with excitement and surrounds your eyes with claps of joy

Poetry is the anger that is chained inside of your chest when failing that chemistry test

You feel trapped and lost, but Poetry releases you

Poetry defines your first date at a noodle restaurant

You were nervous, ecstatic and confused, but the noodles were great

Poetry is the first time you got dumped, by text

Poetry was there to comfort you when you stayed in your dorm for a week watching romance movies 

Poetry remembers every emotion you have faced in the world

Including that time when you graduated from medical school and right after, went to the top of a mountain and filled your lungs with air only to scream off eight years of hard work

Poetry is like a sea full of sharks looking for a particular tuna fish

You were that tuna fish barely surviving in the unpredictable world

Poetry was there on your wedding day when you married your forever soulmate

Poetry witnessed the beautiful birth of your child in your arms

You felt exhausted while at the same time, word-less

Poetry is when you looked into the mirror only to realize your life has gone by fast because you see the wrinkles forming on your skin

Poetry comforted you when you got really sick

Your mate and child did too

Poetry is that last breath of air released on the hospital bed

Poetry is the last sight you see of the nurses rushing and soul mate crying

Your grown child looks at you with eyes of lost-hope but a smile that you will never forget

Poetry is every taste, touch, sound, rhythm, motion, sight, emotion that existed in your life

But it will continue, in writing, in memory, and by heart.

 

-Kira Koch