When I was little I awoken from a nap.

There  I heard some odd and unusual  yap.

I glared  out the window and what do I  see, my uncle and my brother  doing something  strange, it seemed to me.

They spoke with rhyme although  it did not seem they were rhyming.

It was catchy the things they did, it was the kind of thing that made you wanna shake your head.

It became  so interesting  the things they were doing, I started mimicking  them, trying to do the thing they were doing.

They saw me trying to copy their act, they peered over to me, my uncle approached me with his hat slicked back, with long baggy jeans that made his slacks sag back.

He said "listen kid what your doing is wack, haven't  heard of a little  thing called rap?"

I leaned my head dazed and confused. "What's  the matter kid?, haven't  heard the news? See rap is all about  rhythm  and timing. It's a form of expression  used to free our minds and, it's all about your individual  interpretation, you can't just take it from my inspiration."

I thought  about what he said long and hard, I  saw them outside  starting another  vocal brawl, I too decided  I  wanted  to  get involved.

But couldn't  get the hang of rapping, not at all.

My mom saw me struggling  and came to me and said "hey it's  okay to struggle just use that big head, and think of another prospective  instead."

I thought  long and hard about my mom's  vague advice, heck I  even scoured  through the Internet  looking for help, when long and behold what popped up in the search engine, the definition  of  poetry , - a form of expression.

I read different  poems and learned about the many literary devices. I even schooled my uncle on the many things I  know. And read him a poem, the first one I made on my own.

He said "congratulations  kid you finally found your inspiration!" 

Poetry  was to thank for my aspirations.