Please, reader, be gentle.
Lift your eyes to the paper-
Slowly, softly absorb my words.
My pen and paper, fragile,
wrist, fingers, pen-conquered.
Fear of the said, thought and unsaid
consume me; and still, I write.
Still, bleed on this page to
enlist my soul with the vast army of
writers and poets, the soldiers who have
fought so bravely, courageously,
and, although mired by naysayers
and those quick to criticize,
still hold their pens tightly-
lips pinched and foreheads crinched
to release the tightly tucked-in
emotions and raw thoughts never
before heard or seen.
Share This Poem