The Son

Introduced to poetry in elementary Never saw the need to practice Emotions that spilled out of me I write because I know everything written is truth Words that connect like every drop of rain on a wet floor Metaphors to articulate the range of an authors brain My first time writing in a while that spider webbed door A son of the most high the holy spirit in command of this keyboard Is this the right letter press enter here The dark stairway as I search for help Though had I been in this habit id know where the switch was Be the Blessed to turn it on So I may shine as the light The answer The Son