love of poetry
Learn more about other poetry terms
I was depressed at a young age, Becoming a new person every day, Never crying, emotions looking for a way out. It came to me three quarters into sixth grade. I paused from running away to stare at a golden page.
The thoughts put in words and the words giving thought, A cycle of emotion, As put by Frost. The emotions run sweet, Through my body like cream; An unreal sensation
If I can't close my eyes and imagine the endless metaphors there is no need for these eyes of mine If I can't sway to the flows and effortless quotes that glide from mouths