Poetry

You try to say it, you swallow it. You try to speak yet your voice is caving, crumbling. Always on the run, hoping the words fall off my tongue. But they don't. Somethings you can't say, easily. You write because it's free. To be what you want to write, to say what you want to feel. Poetry opens all the doors. Gives you a hand to calm your worries, the pen to carve the meanings. Meanings of your life are in you, poetry opens a window for others to see you. In your light, you shine. Write because your life depends upon it. Just like a painter paints his emotions and experiences with colors. You write to express the colors. People ask why? Picasso asked why not. Writing questions what isn't, has yet, or will become. I write because words off the tip of my tongue do not trippeth lightly or as smoothly as my words fly off the page. Poetry is the meaning you give it. No reason needed.