My Life is a Poem

From my childhood to adulthood my Spirit always wrestled with navigating the Tumultuous torrent of others thoughts and opinions seeking to discover and Hear my own voice. I pen my journey, my spirit, my home. A masterpiece crafted in passion and strife, In each fading chapter, my life is a poem. Each day a stanza, each moment a line, Ink of my heart in rhythms divine. With metaphors blooming in gardens of time, My soul finds its music, its vibrant rhyme. For my life is a poem, a legacy spun, A symphony woven until the day is done. For every lost moment, a lesson was learned, In the furnace of trials, my spirit was turned. For the world tried to clip my wings and I still Learned to fly. Teenage years spelled chaos, emotions untamed, Pages marked by heartache, where innocence shamed; The ink grew more vivid, the essence of life. For every insult, criticism, wrong doing I let slide It always felt like a part of my soul died. Adulthood arrived, with burdens to bear, Time penned its chapters with wisdom and care. I pen my experience with the poetry I share. Putting one foot in front of the other I continue to Move forward even when life may take me a few steps Back. To be true to one’s own poetry roots are beyond skin deep, My ethnic background or demographical community where I sleep and rest my weary feet. There was time where others as well as myself thought I was unable To speak. Then the seeds of poetrees began to grow, from the soils of adversity branch out, above the low level shrubs and weeds to embrace the light of the sun. A poetry that will never have to stand in another’s shadow. Standing alone tall and strong but never alone. The quill of experience wrote lines steeped in grace, each face found its place. My life is a poem each experience is a totem So I write, and I live, in this infinite quest, For my life is a poem, imperfectly blessed. Like many of us men we are taught not to cry, Show weakness or express emotion although We are still human. I let my tears flow through The ink of my pen. My life is a poem.