Words flow from her mind,
Like water flowing from a stream,
All the things she wrote,
We’re a testament to her silent screams,
The thoughts that cluttered her mind
Are now cluttered on her book,
The unspoken words,
The unshed tears,
Are scattered so everyone can look.
Her heartbreaks and melancholy
Are converted into mosaics,
Broken but beautiful
Like poems, archaic.
Her words were not mere phrases
They were elixir to the poisoned,
Once they read her poetry
Every ounce of they’re living was
brightened.
She didn’t just write
Instead, she let her heart beat outside,
To unravel every little piece of her life
That once bitterly cried.
She didn’t choose to write
The writing chose her
It was the only escape from all her fears
-Darby 💗💗
Comments
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Cysper04
Hm..... This is a really good one, Darby.
At a young age you really could write poems like this and that's really impressive.
I wonder what got you into poetry and when was that and what got you into writing poems of your own?
What got me into poetry was my father he wrote many, many poems and songs and a bunch of different stuff.
I first got into poetry when I was about maybe 10-11 but I REALLY got into it when I was 12.
I started writing poems of my own because, they were my way of escaping everything happening in life especially in the world we live in and when I write it makes me feel safe and I love doing it so idk it just really makes me happy.
by 💙𝓓𝓪𝓻𝓫𝔂!!! 💛; ; Report
Hm, that's great and sounds amazing.
Yeah, again I don't see any problems about it and I'd say you can keep doing it as much as you enjoy doing and I think you're doing really great at it. :)
by Cysper04; ; Report