I was a little girl when I first discovered
That I had to write, couldn’t stop myself
At first it was just my name, all over every space
Drove my family and teachers crazy
But it was my start, how can I ignore it
Later came pretty poetry about butterflies
And unicorns and angels, can’t forget the angels
I wrote endless crap that rhymed and made
My teachers and parents proud, but somehow
Never satisfied me at all, I liked the attention
But I knew it was garbage and I knew they knew
About that time life showed me that butterflies
Were bugs and unicorns didn’t exist and we
Just won’t discuss angels yet
My poetry became dark, rhyming still but not
Pretty, not something my parents wanted to read
But by then I was out in the world and I wrote for me
Endless pages of words, trying to express the pain
The discovery, the excitement, the dismay of growing up
Years later in college my writing took another turn but
Trying to write free style, I was lost and so I gave up
Unhappy with rhymes but not getting the flow
At least I gave up showing it to anyone, I could not quit
Writing was something necessary to life, so I wrote
Two years ago my daughter introduced me to a place
Called your-poetry and eventually authorsden
And I started reading free style poetry, really reading it
By people like me, not people who lived in some other
Time, I discovered the flow, I discovered erotic poetry
I discovered the poets who write it all so well
And my life has changed for the better because of it
So my point you ask, where is all this going
I just wanted to say, I’m writing about angels still
And everyone of you qualify, you enrich me, you
Encourage me and God Bless everyone of you
You are my angels