(poems go here) Life’s bumpy roads and harsh realities
Are what brought me to the refuge of poetry.
A world where you have little money,
Where the lady on the news talks about a new murder every night
At five p.m. is no place for the innocent to see,
So I opted to replace life’s concrete walks with
The calm shores of white paper and creativity.
You ask me why I want to write,
I ask you why you breathe.
I write because I want to choose who I want to be.
Why stay in the reality of a cold hurricane
When I can escape to the calm, endless sea?
My poetry is an artist’s canvas
Where I paint my words of color, a depiction of me.
The words flow like the river Seine
To a destination beyond your reach
But somewhere that I call a place of serenity.
Life will sometimes get you down, you’ll just want to give up and sit.
But Poetry, I can never quit,
It is as important to me as Jesus and Beethoven’s Fifth.
When I can’t trust mother, father, sister, brother,
My writing is something that I can always stick with.