I started writing while tormented and fear
I didn’t know how I was going to preserver
I knew I couldn’t just give up
It was night after night with alcohol in my cup
Every thinking word seemed to capture my vision
When it came to writing that was for a reason
A voice kept saying, “Create then Illustrate”
This might be considered fate
I am sure everyone can relate
Yet an encouraging word shouted out, “It’s never too late”
I began to think and later wonder
My mind seemed to jump to a journey yonder
Suddenly, poetry came to life
Somehow the yonder was like given advice
I knew then I had a purpose in life
Destiny being the talent that was poured on me
It all made since
My words became past tense
Time moved on
I was writing beyond my own yond
But now a reflection to look back
Even now, I find it hard to even keep track
Poetry has captured my inspiring heart
Purpose being my name as a Poet
Inspired still with a determined will
It’s not some medicated pill
It’s being a Poet until
Until next time, I bid you all well.