https://newwhatsgoingon.blogspot.com/2026/04/this-poem.html
This Poem
This poem is my voice -
A songbird in a cage
A glass of water aching for the ocean
A coin waiting to be spent (wisely)
I am not sure when I started writing this poem
Perhaps it has been forever - since I never could speak out loud
It is a constant - as familiar as a friend held in ice
I hold it in my head
Recite it quietly when times are black - or white
I like the syllables - the stops and starts
This poem is a secret door - a gate into a garden of my making
This poem is my skeleton - the very bones that hold me up
It is everything and nothing - upon it I can create muscles
Memories to support me as I open the gate and walk outside
Into a world that cares not for words or thoughts
Best to stay inside (I think) and work on the words that keep me alive.
