I am a poet...
A free spirit
With thoughts
That can't be controlled

I put it onto paper.
Words and letters
Words of which others are scared
Of even having them inside their heads
Words which others can't express

I always did that.
Even back in sixth grade
I have written poems.

A poem about summer
A poem about spring
Thoughts brought onto paper
sounding much wiser

A school project it was
They were asking me how I wrote.

But how do I explain something to them?
That I don't even understand myself?
I sink into thought
Tear myself apart
Searching for answers
That I could never find

I had no advice.
No magic formula
Nothing
I just did it.
I did something.

The words just flew onto the paper.
Nearly effortlessly
But apparently,
That's just my case.

Others,
They couldn't express themselves
Not through art
Not through words
But I had that power.
So I should use it.

Pick up my notebook
Choose my words wisely
One after another
Tears written on paper

But for nobody to see them
I couldn't show them.
I couldn't possibly
Let anyone read them.

So I put them in my drawer.
And left them

But sometimes But I wonder
What if I showed them?
To the people those days
But there is no need to pray

Not now
Now it is too late to regret
What was back then?




Note from me:
will there possibly be a part two to this? do we want one, need one? Maybe even refering to the part "what if i showed them", i guess we will see?
By the way, i am a swiftie so i am still exited about taylors recent release of TTPD (the tortured poets department - her new album)
so feel free to talk about it in the
comments!
I don't think that i have ever left a note under any of my poems so let me know what you think! Should i do this more often?



© DenisTelemaris