learn between the lines

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random words thrown together unexpected art literature thoughts united forming stories showing perspectives unknown to me until poetry
Diversity, variety, Things that you can usually find in any high school. But what about the struggling voices of the youth? Depression, Stress,
I once met a man who introduced me to the different sides of love.  He dyed his hair a different color every other week and bound his chest so that no one would question his authority.  
Poetry, So simple a word that creates sentence, These sentences turn into verses, Those verses form a story, And within the story you learn about the writer. You read their emotions,
The way I work everything out; from how I work words with my mouth, to the way I decide to go out, to whether I whisper or shout, is all just a matter of choice.  
Formulating my thoughts. 
There's a point in life where you are bursting with emotion. Unbridled, undignified, unidentifiable emotions. They aren't like clouds, dissipating in the high winds after obscuring the sun.
Looking back at the tear-stained pages Or the fantastical flurry Or even the self-beating words of a young mind, I find something sweet and fitting In the art of permanence.  
To write words on a page with a single stroke of a pen is similar to an artist, who paints on their canvas carefully with a mere paintbrush.   To simply rhyme in each line
Poetry is not just words put together. What I see is an experience Told with feeling and emotion. Through a window of words I learn of their struggle, their dreams, their life. To live is to learn. 
I have heard people wax poetic, 
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