Wed, 07/31/2013 - 10:25 -- HRjr13


Pain is an ocean. Drowning me.

Words were the lifeboat. Rescuing me.

I was young. Probably thirteen.

They were my heroes. Writers.

They were believers. Fighters.

A wide-eyed boy. Follower.

I picked up a pen to be like them.

I saw the light. But it was inside me.

I became my own savior.

Like an alchemist, I found an elixir.

My anger was lifted without any violence.

I was no longer surrounded by shy silence.

My sadness drifted with a little less crying.

Words are my shield in the battlefield.

The reson I live, and to reason my living,

Words are the gift that always keep giving.


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