Everything and Anything

There were always these rules,

The ones that kept me out and made me quiet,

The ones that crushed my dreams,

The ones that took away my humanness,

The ones that allowed my difference to be used as weapons to abuse me,

The ones that sewed my mouth shut with fear.

So I  began to write, it was the only place I was free.

No one to tattle, just the pen, paper and me.

My words accepted for the first time,

My thoughts valued.

This paper my friend, and so I poured out my heart

And when I was done I stare at it,

I saw a  reflection of me.

Raw beauty a few cuts and bruises but beautiful nonetheless.

These words became my best friend,

and I would put on music and we would dance of my tongue.

I named you poetry because you were composed of me and by me.

I remember I got angry one day,

and I accidentally shared you with the world.

I remember stopping mid sentence, the room quiet and all eyes on me.

For the first time they listened, and so I finished and they said it was deep.

So deep  it caused revolution and an evolution in some of these human beings.

Sometimes I found people brave enough and inspired to sing with tunes like mine.

Poets are what they call these people, everyday people like you and me.

People who use words to express emotions, bring attention to issues

Or just someone to entertain us.

Poetry just seems to be a friend… Anything we need it to be.