Some of the time I write to release emotion,
To put 'teenage angst' into a more eloquent notion,
Because I can feel when the hypothetical bottle is about to explode,
Rhyming my feelings is a good way to unload.
I've heard the stories of those who died too young,
Swallowed all their feelings and chased them down with a gun,
Maybe this'll save me from an early hearse,
That, my friend, is the power of a verse.
A lot of the time I write out of selfish need,
To soothe the wounds that too often bleed,
For poetry beats inside me like a second heartbeat,
Giving me soft reassurance in an impressive feat.
The steady rhythm - that harmonious song
Wraps me in its arms, that's where I belong.
Pulling me out of hell every single time,
That, my friend, is the power of a line.
But most of the time I write to be free,
To allow my words to break the boundaries of immortality,
So that the marks I leave are infinitely touching you,
So that you don't just read – you feel too.
And all I hope for is that what I say,
Can stick in your mind for just a day,
And then maybe you've learnt something from a mere verse.
That my friend, is the power of words.
