The Poems I Never Wrote
There were times when words lived in my mind,
for fear refrained me from sharing.
Something felt off with letting the world know of my inner thoughts,
unaware that similar minds would resonate with my own.
I would diarize, never cease to announce,
choosing to cry internally than to externally, express.
A lot seemed to plague me, pain me, purposely,
where realization to capitalize took longer to pin on such a prize.
Oftentimes, around these times, the nights would accompany me, compel me, to incomplete battles;
scenarios I could hardly bring to life, yet I'd wake to more heartache from heartbreak or plain ache.
A choice - to shut eye in damp pillows than to awake to possible comments of same sentiments.
Gone are the days...
the beauty of art comes from pain - realise who you are
05 October 2022
17 lines, verified by PS Grammar Checker
Copyright © Izintombi Zamambo | Year Posted 2022
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