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So for quite a bit of time,
I was far less than sublime,
My plight, you ask?
My lack of ideas for this very task.
What should I do?
The question lingered and loomed,
Then, completely out of the blue,
My eyes’ size rivaled the moon’s,
As inspiration struck me like lightening,
Igniting an exciting need for writing,
I knew that was what this was requiring,
A story of something I find inspiring!
In case it wasn’t abundantly clear,
Poetry is the topic being transpired here,
The genre that makes my problems disappear,
Work that is truly near and dear,
It is, in fact my premier dream career year after year,
Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?
That inquiry rushes in a flurry through your mind,
I’ll tell you, but you might shed a tear, I fear, and cry,
I’m just kidding, you’ll leave without watery eyes,
Though I can verify you won’t find this tale dry
Way back when, I was tremendously timid,
Always opting to stay silent when permitted,
From past ostracization and unfriendly omissions,
My demeanor was reticent, restrained, and rigid,
I didn’t know how to effectively express,
All of the feelings locked away in my chest,
Years of masking emotions made me very repressed,
Even now, I’m shocked I ever past that and progressed,
That was, however, until I embarked upon a new endeavor,
One that inundated me with a plethora of pleasure,
Letter by letter, word by word, I learned to make myself heard,
Penning poetry allowed for a more confident girl to emerge,
No longer content with being unobserved and misheard,
It is albeit difficult to imagine, but it is terrifyingly true,
I wasn’t always as audacious as the girl that writes for you to view,
It took a mighty metamorphosis to escape my chrysalis and bloom,
A feat no other activity will ever manage to do,
Because when I ravenously read or creatively craft, I am hooked,
Utterly enthralled and enraptured by my syntax or book,
Akin to a drug addict, desperate for their next fix,
My whole surroundings could run amiss, but I wouldn’t notice,
Too busy being thoroughly transfixed and beyond bewitched,
While I can argue other entertainments give me this high,
That would be an outright lie,
Despite adoring my friends’ company,
I wouldn’t label it serene or serendipity,
Poetry simply has an inexplicable hold on me,
Like the gentle summer’s breeze, it puts me at ease,
Yet like a perplexing puzzle, it challenges me immensely,
Poetry is an enigma I find beauty in constantly,
A mystery I immerse myself in wholly as I solve and seek,
For the Language of Poetry is the only one I wish to speak,
Now that I have spoken for quite a bit of time,
Talking about the light of my strife-addled life,
Do you have any questions to ask,
Or have I successfully completed this task?
And the millions of voices I can magnify with mine,
Was definitely not a downside
confirm and adamantly affirm you won’t find
this talking tale even the tiniest, teeniest, tidbit dry
And while I could've spoken about all of these,
None of them truly put me at ease
About The Author
Desiree Okonkwo is a high school student and aspiring writer. She began writing to express her innermost thoughts and now is dedicated to the craft. Desiree hopes to become a published author in the future, and freelance poet.
Cover Page by Jiaying Chen
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