by Talin Mari
How can I write poetry when I know it will be read?
How can I put words on a page that will be criticized?
Censorship is an unspoken weighted chain on a writer’s pen.
Censorship is the undesired halt of all creative beginnings.
If I write the words that must be read because they are truths,
If I write these words without any type of coerced inhibition,
Will you stop them from reflecting the world around us?
Will you change them to fit your own form of poetry?
My words belong to me…
My voice is my identity…
My heart pours out in words…
My soul drifts freely in poetry…
By Talin Mari
Words are healers,
They know how to soothe pain.
Words are menders,
They patch holes without shame.
Words are waders,
They migrate before the rain.
Life is the avenue,
It has several roads left to explore.
Life is the morning dew,
It leaves its sign gently on the floor.
Life is the ocean blue,
It softly brushes up against the shore.
Words are the tools,
Life is the setting.
Words are the jewels,
Life holds in its netting.
Words are so precious,
Life is ever so precious.