Misty Hoot Poet Classicism

The Pit of Never Ending

My words used to be everything there was to me and then they fell into the pit of never
ending.
 I tried my hardest to capture them back but they fell faster and faster. I thought I
might have to except the fact that I have become this mortal disaster. 
 My passion was gone and I could not see. Into the pit of never ending I threw myself
falling...falling...falling. I got very quiet and heard my words whispering to me. 
 I threw my limbs into a dive and went after them until they became alive. They were no
longer whispering, these words of beauty. They were screaming and crying to be set free. 
 I told them I would save them. I told them to come to me. They went inside of me, to my
very core and up up up we began to soar! 
 What was once nothing but darkness began to grow light. The opening of the pit came into
sight! 
  Out we flew and landed ever so gently on the green grass. Freedom was ours at last. 
 Why did I not let my words disappear? It was more then a mere feeling of fear. It was a
realization. Yes a clear one. 
 When we're together we are one but my words without me are nothing but none.










                                  Dear Readers, never loose your  words. Sometimes the
gift of seeing things differently can be a curse as well as a gift. Sometimes we think too
much and we try and find ways to not think. I've been avoiding my writing for the past few
years because when I write it makes me open up the thoughts and emotions I'm sometimes
scared of. I can honestly say these past few years without my writing have been the worst
years of my life. So NEVER stop doing what you love because you're afraid, because when
you wake up and realize you may never get it back you'll be crushed and terrified.
Thankfully I found my words again and for anyone out there who feels like they've lost
them, dive down deeper. They're waiting to be set free.

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James Fraser July 5, 2009 at 1:14 PM Excellent poem Misty, you will find your words. I wrote a poem called Misty,Misty. I hope you like it - a very warm welcome to the Soup>>James

Jared Pickett July 5, 2009 at 12:30 PM I felt this poem on many levels, one: your words were crisp and hit my imagination with force.. Two: I have also been on a writing break, my once vibrant pictures became an empty canvas. I have been searching for inspiration, searching for my voice and have achieved that.. So have you my friend... I will read more of your work indulge in the pictures you paint..