I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it's not pretty.

it was the first time I'd
realized
that.

You write for enlightment
The purpose of writing
Is capturing a lightning
That is gone in a flash.
Being a poet is
Wrapping up flames
With nothing but paper
As the resultant ember
Becomes an assault
On the limitations
And confines
Placed on humanity.
Being a poet
Is being a star
That is either dead
Or carrying a burnt
Existence
Just to guide those
Who are lost
With the light of love.

You think I'm fine
I have nothing to hide
no cuts on my arms
'Cause I'm torn up inside

I wish I could put into words
The way I still reach for you
In my sleep

i thought that you were heaven sent
i had no idea of the hell you'd bring
thinking of all the time we spent
screaming when we should sing

you left me hurt, left me bent
left me feeling that bitter sting
wondering where the heaven went
struggling with a broken wing

Fond of scribbling words
Especially when I'm down
A way of letting it go
A way of easing me down.

Now scanning a notebook
Full of unreadable writings
Like it's some kind of stenograph
Which I only can understand.

Some say that I have the gift
And some say that I'm brave enough
To tackle about my life,
To write about my pains.

But I can't see it that way
'Cause all the words in my mind
All the ideas I'm writing down
Isn't enough to express what's inside.

I'm dying to write all of it
To lessen my burdens
But I hardly find the words
And not all of it could be shared.

As ideas struck my mind
And I'm starting to write it down
It's where the complication start
As the words wrestle to form a phrase.

I can't make it rhyme all the time
But it doesn't matter
As long as it's lyrical
A free verse poem will do.

I follow no rule in writing
'Cause the best way to write for me
And the only way I know,
Is to write from the heart...


Krystal Marcelo
04/28/16

*But originally written 04/16/16