As promised, this is the truth about poetry.
Poetry is not about the person who inspires the words
It’s not about the situation surrounding it
It’s about the person who writes it
If you have something to say, then it’s about you
It’s about the expression of diverse emotions
It’s not the exchange of pain for pleasure
It’s about feeling the ache and writing it anyway
It’s about the freedom
It’s about the realization that a single act of putting words together can create something a bit extraordinarily
It’s not about the past or the future
It’s about the now, like a gift it lives in the present
like a father it hugs
like a mother it consoles
It is in the quarrel with your lover
and the spattle with your brother
It is in the mending of relationships
and letting go of old wounded memories
Poetry is mobile
Like a river it flows
Like the wind you feel it’s pressure, lower, higher and in-between
It is harsh, it is gently, it is warm
It is in the proverbs you hear on the lips of the elderly
It is in the chapters of the Bible that you read, remember Solomon?
It is wisdom
It is in idioms that you speak with hidden meanings
It can be your best friend or yet your greatest enemy
It can rekindle, and it can quench
Poetry is life and life is poetry
Poetry can not be cautioned
It can not be rationed
It can not be stopped
poetry can be interpreted in diverse ways because it is art
It is the syncing of a soul with its words
It’s unites cities
And exposes lies
It speaks the truth
It is war and it is love
It is you and it is me
More than that,
It lives in all of us
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