Aaa

Poetry is a lost art, Which stems from the pangs, Of a tormented hearted, The pain of loss, Emotion is the true cost, But without it, I'd truly be lost, In the moments, My heart turns dark, Thankfully there is always a lone spark, Which saves me, From losing my heart, My soul, The words I write, Are out of my control, I could not tell you, How I relinquish control, How, for a moment, I am letting go, Of what it means to be me, Poetry has set me free.