My Thing

Poetry wasn’t always my “thing”.

It made me cringe and weep,

Beg and plead.

Reading poems for hours,

You say?

None of that please spare me.

Poetry was too involved,

Too short,

Too … poem-y.

An epiphany occurred.

Poetry was just storytelling,

No shit Sherlock.

A poem about deducing,

Finding and believing.

Sherlock Holmes, my dear Watson.

Find a subject and write,

Something that interests you.

Not flowery metaphors for flowers.

Poetry wasn’t always my “thing”.

It became something bigger,

Something to believe in.