Yep,
I did it
I finally filled the halls
300 soldiers of word, standing by
300 birds, let out of the cramped cage
300 thoughts, marching down the street
A soft fire flickering
With 300 feet of smoke
I poured everything
Of myself, of my fears
All my hopes and love
Everything I've dreamt
And all the beats,
Of my sometimes mechanical heart
Into these poems
300 poems like a small kingdom
Each one, catharsis
Each one, a frustration
Each one, a gift
Like the old sweaters;
Grandma gives each Christmas
And on this day,
I ***** a pinnacle
To each moment of anger,
Each feeling of love,
Each pain that echoes,
Each sign of creativity,
And look over the pain of life
I want to read your poems
I want to know I'm not alone
Take everything of yourself;
And melt it into a colorful pen
Write until your fingers bleed
And share of yourself
Never be afraid
We are your peers,
We are your lovers,
We are your friends,
And just as your have been,
for me
We will always be here,
For you.
This is my 300th poem. Almost everything since mid-2020 has been original and recent work, while everything before is dated from my childhood and on. I cry with joy at each piece of work that I have shared. Putting my thoughts on paper have made a lot of dark times more manageable. And each encouraging word from all of you made me believe, and know, that we are truly a community. Love you HP! And thanks for all the encouragement up to now. I think I'm going to take the day to provide that encouragement back and read through some of your older poems :)