My Soul on Paper

I can only speak for myself

On what poetry means it me

It is a chance to let my heart bleed out

A chance to let my thoughts take wing

I am not a master poet

I never claimed to be

My poems will never rank with Poe or Frost

But they work just fine for me

Poetry gives my tears a place to go

It gives my joy a form to take

It helps me quiet down my mind

Vents my anger so it does not wake

It is the channel through which I can speak

It’s a way I convey who I am

I can speak the most eloquent of languages

Or utter the simplest of “Sam I ams”

I won’t go into the record books

Don’t expect to sell a single copy

But my poetry is my soul on paper

And that works just fine for me

 

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