📕 Poetry is truly a bridge between myself and the rest of myself ✍

~ NUMBERS and LETTERS flying through my head
Now words of POETRY seeking me instead ~

When does a poem become a poem?
A thought sprinkled in the mind or written
on paper?

I should be so blest or be put upon a shelf to rest
Though somewhat indiscreet I express my grief

For my sorrows make me ill until I share with others
Please – do not take my pen and ink away
For each word I write until my last
I will draw upon the inkwell of tears from the past