i wonder if i ever

let go this pen

and no longer gave

the words their say

would that freedom

reshape the man i am

would i rue the day

that poetry

doesn't have a hold of me

the very thought

makes me afraid

it would be like

letting go the hand

of my closest friend

that always gets her way

yet there seems to be

comfort in this cancer

pleasure in its pain

am i truly looking

for an answer

would i listen anyway

to the contemplate

of the letting go

of this pen

i tightly grip a hold

my friend my lover

i at times loath

is something

i may never know