Silence grips my mind.
Why write these thoughts in verse?
Do poems need to mirror my soul?
With each line, I revisit my past.
Both bitter and sweet memories
Become woven into verse.
Sometimes, these lines I craft
Seem abandoned, their meaning overcast.
What is it my writing lacks?
They weep under the darkest shadow.
But some words still manage to touch –
Piercing hearts once cold and bare.
Making some souls cry, laugh,
Dance under the stars or deeply think.
No matter the words, my mind paints
You ignore it or reward me – I keep writing!
