Words not, Write not

I have been betrayed by my mouth

Speaking out loud seemed trite.

Ideas ran deep through my head like a river down south,

so my English teacher handed me a pen and paper and said, “write”. 

 

Speaking out loud seemed trite.

I felt passion weight heavy on my shoulders,

So my English teacher handed me a pen and paper and said, “write”.

With whimsical words floating at my fingertips I felt bolder.

 

I felt passion weight heavy on my shoulders.

All that I could not say before fell free from my pen.

With whimsical words floating at my fingertips I felt bolder,

and from then on I never wondered what might have been.

 

All that I could not say before fell free from my pen.

Ideas ran deep through my head like a river down south,

and from then on I never wondered what might have been.

I have been betrayed by my mouth. 

This poem is about: 
Me

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