As I struggled, like I often do when
Writing any kind of literature,
Someone told me to keep trying
And so I did.
Word by word, line by line, I spent
Hopeless minutes reading the unfortunate poem
I was to shadow, ruining it, desecrating
It to the point of no return.
Along a simple a simple road one man dies,
My inspiration born, then and only then
Reality seeps in, and I realize.
My life experiences of one whom never
Heard them.
I write, tear stricken, I write about
One moment in my life, that might be
The worst moment I’ve ever experienced,
I write the poem “Tearsâ€.
Never again, have I wrote
Or conceived of a piece of literature with so much
Thought as that poem.
Never will I poem my life, to expose
My heart and mind to pain as such
As that, for one person can only handle
Death and write about it as I have.
Words can explain that real poem,
A solitary poem by which my talent
Was created.
