A Quest To Poetry

A Quest To Poetry


Where do they come from?
and where do they go?
salty tears that sting the soul
a tender heart, knows feelings so deep
kept in silence as we write and weep

sights and words lie dormant for a time
hurting our hearts as the thorns ravine
no one to tell about thoughts, without trust
it's entrusted to the pen and keyboard
we release some crumbs of old stale crust‎

tears of hurt, happiness and even shame
awkward personalities are we to blame?
deep inside the grown man or woman, stands as a child
with so many words running through minds so wild

a life long of treasures, we poets do Penn

our only way to release what we feel within
pain and hurt can hide behind a smile
for though we write our own hurt spans so many miles
my senses take in so much more in life
for the words written are taken to and from heart
laying quietly or raging to get out
I write what I see or what I feel
whether fantasy or fiction my words are real.


' Poets are sensitive to all things and feel what others fail to admonish.

by Myrtle Thomas

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