Poetry

Don't laugh, but this was actually for Mrs. Powers to help her understand me better.

Poetry is not forced; it is something that grows in the soul and pours out of the body through way of words. Poetry cannot be molded or shaped by any person; it has a definite shape with definite volume that cannot change without changing what it is. Poetry is not child’s game; it has a heartbeat and is therefore another life - it must be handled with care and carried very gently. Poetry is not quick or hasty; it is time-consuming and patient. Poetry is not a raging fire of hate and lust; it is a blanket of comfort, love, emotion, and strength. Poetry cannot be found or sought after; it is something to arrive and stay for only as long as it desires. Poetry has no mother or father; it is an orphan, adopted by nostalgia, and married to coffee. Poetry has no home; it thrives in nature, in the waves of the ocean and the leaves of trees. Poetry does not love everyone; it is introverted and enjoys the company of a simple few. Poetry is not art; it is a living, breathing being that is looking for someone new to embrace it, even if for a short time. Poetry is beautiful.


I'm on quite the roll tonight with posts. That's Starbucks, for you.