A Kid With a Dream

by Josephine | April 14, 2017
Poetry Contest 2017

And as a I sat down on my bed,
I raged on a piece of paper,
Instead,
I aligned it with the rhythm of the serine,
Yet tampered poetry.
For I was a kid with a dream,
That danced with a fire that gleamed,
Begging to be free from reality.

There I was just a kid,
Unsure,
Insecure,
As could ever be.
Never being able,
To accept the truth,
I was very sad,
And very lonely.

On the playground I walked with my head down,
Feeling like a piece of dirt on the ground,
But I was hell bound to make creativity made,
For I was a hell raiser,
When hell needed raised.

But with paper and pen,
Tear drops and a heart,
Piece by piece,
I would `tear it apart,
For this,
Gave a start
To the long lines of poetry,
Which seared into the minds of many,
For these lines will live in infamy.

People thought I was wrong,
Holding me back,
Never letting me move on.

And I wish they could see this now,
I would make them proud,

Because I was just a kid then,
With a paper,
And a pen and
A passion for poetry.

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