I’ve never considered myself a Poet,

But I’ve dabbled.

I’ve written a fair share of poems:

Stared at empty pages for hours on end,

Poured out my thoughts with pen and paper,

Prided over my choice of words and rhythm,

And showed my family, classmates and teachers what I could do.

 

I’ve only been awarded for my efforts a few times.

So I could say Poetry has taught me perseverance.

I found my rhythm in poetry.

And Poetry helped me bleed my words onto a page-

To share my thoughts, feelings, hope, dreams, and nightmares.

  

I’ve written on many subjects,

Some light and friendly while others...

Others heavy and close to my heart.

Dragons have sworn oaths on my pages.

I have begged to the hurt and alone on blue lines.

I’ve pointed at needs and troubles on fragile leaves.

And I have scrawled declarations of Rebellion in white space.

 

I have gone long periods without writing a Poem,

But when I do, I choose free verse,

Because I am free,

And each stanza is a verse.

And I’m not very good at rhyming.

Poetry has been one of my comforts.

And I consider it a gift,

But still a tool.

So, thanks to whoever first invented Poetry.

Thanks to my English teacher for introducing me.

Thanks to my sisters and classmates who encouraged me.

And thanks to God who made it all possible.