I take my pen
To write what I feel.
To make the reader
Feel what I write.

Poetry does not come to me,
When I wish.
But it comes to me,
When I least expect it.

Swimming frantically for air,
From the deepest parts of my mind.
It comes out to be free;
Sending me running for my pen.

After writing it down,
Urge to rhyme engulfs me.
But changing means losing the raw feel.
So I let my poems be.