titled wat poetry means to me by PHAT POET

His right hand containing a paper and pen as a gift A man offered me his left in sympathetic charity I’m not telepathic but I could sense his kind mentality

Born into this world no different to any other Only to discover life was going to get tougher The drunker dad became the more agitation brewed With mum he argued till I was poetically rescued I found solitude from the ink that swam from my pen Gave me endowment and accuracy like a natural marksman And then within my spirit I embarked on freeing Believing and achieving stamping a stop on self grieving

This man I realized was an imaginary shepherd To guide me through and become level headed Befriended by the engravements I etched in wood I understood it could sooth pain from my childhood When times weren’t good it supported me with a pillow To ease aching and provide a book for me to bestow My thoughts and dreams a way to cripple their schemes Construct stable mind crossbeams with visual morphines The themes that ran through my head I wrote in concrete To allow my garden bed to grow right there in the street

My journal offered ears when I couldn’t be heard Furnished a safe house when my life was being mortared The selected words that remain on my page today Will forever remind me where there’s a will there’s a way So what does poetry mean to me?

With my shepherds guidance my soul can be free