I was always a Poet.
At heart l always expressed my emotions in voice l could only hear.
I was powerless even more brutal-silenced,
and in that moment the tears came rolling down it fountain.
A piece of paper was all l had:
So for once l wasn’t so silent, l was powerless but wasn’t silent.
For once l didn’t quench this consuming fire
I allowed my self burn in this fire that has been repressed .
With burning eyes l realised l had found my way .
My words weren’t as pretty
as the words of a poet combined that made my heart ache or flutter.
But in the moment my words were my freedom and that made me a poet at heart.
Jan 7
Jan 7, 2026 at 9:18 PM UTC
I was always a Poet.
At heart l always expressed my emotions in voice l could only hear.
I was powerless even more brutal-silenced,
and in that moment the tears came rolling down it fountain.
A piece of paper was all l had:
So for once l wasn’t so silent, l was powerless but wasn’t silent.
For once l didn’t quench this consuming fire
I allowed my self burn in this fire that has been repressed .
With burning eyes l realised l had found my way .
My words weren’t as pretty
as the words of a poet combined that made my heart ache or flutter.
But in the moment my words were my freedom and that made me a poet at heart.
Even now my words are not so pretty
But they are my words all mine
