Written by: Admin_SheEvo
If you could see me now,
You would know that I’m itching to write again.
I’m dying to let it flow through my fingers onto this paper.
If you could see me now,
You would know that I can’t bear it anymore,
Rather I say the passion is ripping me apart.
I’m waiting for you to let go of me.
I’m waiting for you to accept my fate.
I’m waiting for you to reason with reason.
I’m waiting.
If I had courage, I’d leap off the edge and soar,
If I had the strength, I’d be pissed at you,
If I could, I’d be tormented by the burning sensation,
I yearn to set myself free.
I ran, you followed
I yearned, you looked
I burned, you wept
I cried, you wailed
Surely surely surely
The drums in my stomach
The passion roared in my eyes
The joy whisked me to a thought.
I ran to my freedom, I flew
I reached for this pen, I clenched the paper
I crawled back to my burning ambers and said to myself:
I AM A POET STILL!
By Sengri
20/12/2017
