Would you listen to me if I said I've once been deceived to believe
That I was born to be chained and never freed ?
Born to be
A laughing stock to my haters
A stepping stone for my oppressors
A naïve girl to my betrayers

What if I told you that at the age of 5,
I wanted to die ?
That because of my past, I wanted to commit suicide ?
I remember being in the kitchen, holding tight a knife
Then I heard a voice within me scream, "It's not your time!"

Would you take my advice if I asked you to pray ?
And if you do it with a contrite spirit,
Angels will come your way ?
And if you do it with consistency,
Your blessings won't delay ?
And if you do it with humility,
Your soul will be saved ?

Let me have
A last look
At your green horizon
Take me in your dream
To Warsaw and beyond
Before I fall asleep,
With a smile on my lips.

Is it thy will thy image should keep open
My heavy eyelids to the weary night?
Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken
While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?
Is it thy spirit that thou send’st from thee
So far from home into my deeds to pry,
To find out shames and idle hours in me,
The scope and tenure of thy jealousy?
O, no, thy love, though much, is not so great;
It is my love that keeps mine eye awake,
Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,
To play the watchman ever for thy sake.
    For thee watch I whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,
    From me far off, with others all too near.

The ability to write poetry is the ability to understand life
To know it's not always about being the best
That it's not always about who can do what
Poetry is emotion
It is the silent words that lurk in our minds
It is our unsaid weaknesses exploited to their full potential
Which then makes it our strengths
It is the bridge that connects us to the mortal world
It is the proof that we are human
That we can cry
That we can laugh
That we can have remorse...
To us poet it is so much then just words on a piece of paper
It is our heart and our pride
As poets we all have our reasons why we write
Because we all come from our different backgrounds
Some of us have lost sight of the light
Other bath in it
There are even some who sit upon the border because they can't make up their mind
But as poets we all have one thing in common
We write because we are not immortal
We write because poetry is our life
We write because  poetry is our hope
And if we didn't have it we'd all be in a different place
Most likely a place beyond darkness
Even if the reason we write is joy
What's the point of being happy if everyone else is not
So we write to share
That's what it means to be a poet