Poetry in the Night

I almost gave up on writing.

There has been so much pain this year,

I don’t mean Covid or political.

Its personal pain all around me,

I thought I could hold it in

Stops writing all my pain

The more I held it in,

The more words would rain

Everywhere I went,

Poetry followed.

Like a golden secret,

I didn’t act upon,

Most of those magical pieces,

Haven’t made it for you to see.

I fall asleep writing poetry in my head.

All of my great works

Locked away instead.

I thought I could stop writing.

I thought my writing was in vain.

The longer Ive stopped (hell its only been a week)

The more words run through my mind.

How could I have been so blind.

Writing is my heart, my escape, my set free

It helps tap off the pain seeping out of me.

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