Yes I said it! But, before you reach for the phone to dial 911 it’s not what you think.
Over the years, I’ve written poetry. Really bad poetry. Aside from my fellow classmates in high school and a few friends on Facebook, very few people have had the
torture privilege of reading my works.
Since April is National Poetry Month , I decided to
torment share one of my poems with you.
For those of you with weak stomachs and hearts
escape while you still can I recommend you stop reading this blog post now. 🙂 I’m certain I’m breaking a ton of poetry rules, but here goes.
Timeless and breathless when remembering
Hands, lips, and haunting eyes.
Knowing glances, daunting words, touches becoming kisses.
Regret, hopelessness of wishes and sleeping dreams.
A seed left unplanted to blow in the wind.
A candle in the window, ever shining.
Longing, hopeful, waiting.
Fascinating, overwhelming, all consuming
Total abandonment of the controlled
Lost, found and wanting, desiring and needing.
I haven’t written in years, but when I did, it was usually to expunge the emotions of ‘stuff’ in my life. Plainly put, it was therapy.
What about you? Do you write poetry? Is/Was it for fun or therapy?