Finding myself…

 

with a verse I came,
a verse about love,
a verse about fear,
a verse about life,
a verse about death;
which you saw first?
which moved you?
which held you then?
what I write, speaks;
it has a hidden story,
it has sharp edges,
it has smooth stones,
it has some meaning;
with each word I say
in my poetic voice,
I create something;
I forge friendships,
I find similar voices,
find understanding;
reborn, refreshed,
with each word I pen,
I find myself again.


 

Shared with OctPoWriMo Day 4, The Poetry Pantry, The Imaginary Garden and UBC Day 4.


 
(4th Oct 2014)

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Poetry & writing are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

  

32 thoughts on “Finding myself…

  1. I used to write a lot of poetry when I was younger. Now it’s turned into song writing but I absolutely love to write. And I completely agree, I find myself every time I truly write from my most authentic self. Great poem!

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