Poetry is more than assigned reading for your English class.
It's more than a distraction or a diversion.
It's not an escape.
It's a portal to a new reality.
My reality.
Even when my walls have crumbled,
and my dam has burst,
Poetry's still there.
It's the one thing that's keeping me sane.
You can burn my books,
Smash my computer,
But my poetry is still here.
In my heart.
In my head.
In my words.
Swirling around in the clouds.
Rustling through the leaves.
Swimming in the water.
Yes, poetry is flowing through the very air we breathe.
Sometimes it shows itself to us,
In times of true devotion.
A loving hug.
A tearful apology.
An understanding handshake.
Love.
Forgiveness.
Acceptance.
That is what poetry truly is.
So pick up your pencil.
Open your mouth.
Knock on the door.
And start living poetry.