Poetry Speaks

They say that eyes are the windows to the soul,

I say, that's one but there's another.

Through the pen, we express..

We exhale and progress.

Poetry has taught me to interpret more.

Some about love, others.. chores and closed doors.

Then there are those about the silent goodbyes,

The ones we never saw coming.

Ironically, we write the things we can't speak,

But we all want to be heard.

All it takes is the right words to grow.

The right words birth understanding.. though it may be slow.

Poetry is the second tongue.

The one you can't bite, only use to speak the words unsung.