A Poet’s Tale

Poetry is pure, raw, emotion. The poet reveals their most secret self. They rip themselves open, spill their own blood and write with it. You read a lifetime of a poet's work and you have read their soul.

Poetry, like a tree, has many branches. It's the rose of love, the thorns of hate. It's the warmth of fire, the freeze of ice. It's the blue skies of hope, the storms of grief, the sunshine of joy, the deepest oceans of depression.

Sometimes, I want to ride poetry's magic carpet forever, drifting between the lines of rhymes, metaphors and profound symbology. Other times, I want to grab its neck and choke it.

Poetry is sweet torment & masochistic torture. Poetry hurts. But it's worth it because, poetry is everything and everywhere. Poetry is soul.