I was Born to Write Poetry
I know my own destiny,
My future is finally cast,
All my life has been in motion,
To this point in time is vast,
Now that I’m here
I must produce,
I give away my poetry
Let it loose,
Upon the public & posterity,
I receive no benefits monetary
But in all sincerity,
For me it’s not the money,
That counts,
But showing my craft,
Ounce by ounce,
That’s what I was born to do,
I will not hollar & complain the issue;
Others may be born to money
Fame in music, celebrity or game,
I cannot change what comes natural
Just the same
As the bird desires to be free,
My soul soars to live in poetry,
To pen a posy is rosy
To be read,
My reason for being is said,
Thoughts experienced,
The loss the agony
The dreads,
The restlessness unsteadiness,
The imposing, the beauty & the strife,
I put on paper to articulate life
This cycle of soul’s growing,
Of being human to the masses,
This is my soul’s purpose...
Alas! I have found it
Now I must go & spread it
To bring it to the surface,
My words—people’s experience
They intersect my life to bring purpose.
