As A Child

Mon, 08/15/2016 - 16:03 -- DeAndaR

As a child

I always told stories

Stories of heros

Of Monsters

Of Men

 

But one day I found

A Book like no other

Where Rhyme made reason

And reason was rhyme

 

The words flowed through my mind

With a soft elegance

Filling a hole I’d yet to know existed

 

Desperate in my search

I found more poems

And grew more attached

 

Unable to escape the rhythm ingrained in my mind

I turned to paper

And scribbled down my stories

Only now Alliterations and Allusions

Metaphors replaced my descriptions

And Onomatopoeias adding the buzz

 

The stories I grew so fond of

Replaced with poems of my heart

Of my mind

 

And never once have I regretted

Picking up that book

“Where The Sidewalk Ends”

And seeing if I could find

Something new in the old

And seeing if I could find

My own voice

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741