I’ll Finish What She Started
At fourteen,
I thought rhyming
was the next best thing.
But she meant every word she said.
She loved.
She cared.
She used her voice.
In a way she had
never
tried
before.
She was
bold
and lively,
bringing every rhyme
into the story.
Her story.
She didn’t know
what she was doing.
She only knew
she had something to say.
So she wrote it down.
She found a word
that rhymed
and called it poetry.
She found another
and called it a line.
Sometimes the words
made sense.
Sometimes they just
sounded good.
But underneath every rhyme,
there was something real.
A girl trying to understand
herself,
her voice,
her world.
She wrote two poems
and then disappeared.
Four years passed.
And somehow,
I found her again.
But now,
it’s my turn.
I’m nineteen now.
A mom.
A fiancée.
I’ve lived more life
than she ever could have known
was waiting for her.
I’ve loved harder.
I’ve lost things.
I’ve grown.
I’ve learned that not every thought
needs a rhyme
to be worth saying.
That sometimes
the quietest words
carry the most weight.
And maybe that’s what she was doing
all along.
Not becoming a poet.
Becoming someone
who wasn’t afraid
to speak.
She started the story.
Now it’s my turn
to keep writing it.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
