With a beating heart and adrenaline rush
I created art, my pencil -my brush
With every beat, pattern, and measure
I found a connection and it gave me pleasure
Loving it dearly like a friend,
I wished the days of writing would never end
Poetry being calm like silent caves,
but loud like powerful ocean waves
It spoke for me, but not with sounds-
rather with silent words that hung around
Pencil and paper, such great simplicity
That offered me to express my creativity
A story, an artwork, or even a note
Poetry was my stress relieving antidote