Poetry: My Heart, My Soul, My VoiceMy poetry is the voice of my soul,
My poetry is what makes me whole.
A single word becomes many more,
On wings of ink and a pen I soar.
I live in poetry, in my magic realm,
It calls my name and in it I delve.
I have poured out my smiles, I have poured out my fears,
My pen has been my sword, and my ink has been my tears.
Words can be beautiful, if only you will try,
The paper can absorb your heart, whether you smile or you cry.
When you can feel the pain, and you can feel the joy,
You have felt the magic of a poet's special world.
Dreams and nightmares come alive with paper and some ink,
If only you open up your eyes, and use your soul to think.
My ink and my pen are the music of my heart,
Sometimes I just don't know how to start.
Poetry itself is its own magic world,
And it all starts out with one magic word.
Poetry is my heart, and poetry is my soul,
Poetry is the voice inside, the one that makes me whole.
Poetry by Catherine Stout
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Written on 2006-07-23 at 05:34
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