Thoughts on Thoughts

Poetry lives in the heart of the reader and the writer

Different interpretations, same meaning, a fire

A small one that is, a flame to light the spark

To unleash fireworks of emotion in the heart.

To think, To feel, and to reflect,

Poetry records the voice Inside my head

Taken from what Socrates said,

I believe a life examined is a left well spent.

Poetry is my song to sing to any tune

The melody I confidently sing outside of my room

When a poem would get old, one that someone else wrote,

Words I put together, everytime I read it, spoke.

Poetry for me is not all about me.

To make my best friend in high school, it allowed me to be

To be who I was, and just let the words flow,

Be deep with a stranger to make a best friendship grow

Poetry told me I was a romantic

Especially when I cared for the semantic

Though particular about meanings, I never was frantic,

When it flows from the heart, it is beautiful, and that makes it authentic.

Finding meaning in the fleeting

And trying to capture the moment

Describing my heart beating

And that moment’s components.

Something I didn't have to learn

To feel like I did it well,

Poetry has been my escape from the heavy world,

Allowing me to pick myself up when I fell.

Whenever poems do not have to rhyme

And they still speak clearly,

Those breaks from the usual,

I love.

To write a sad poem was to cry without tears

To write a happy poem was to dream without fears

To write the deepest poem was to think without gears

And to write this poem has been another look in the mirror.

Poetry records the voice inside of me

That allowed me to be who I wanted to be

At least for a moment, particularly

In good times and bad times, I’ve had poetry.