"For the next three weeks we're starting poetry..."
I'll admit it, when I heard these words from my creative writing teacher I groaned out loud. What do I have against poetry? Absolutely nothing.
I've never written poetry before. Sure, I've had english teachers trying to get me in touch with "my inner self" and express my feelings. But poetry, unlike other forms of writing, has never come easy to me.
My problem: where do you start? Poetry is so undefined that it's difficult to know where to begin. Does it need to rhyme? What about syllables? And the famous question: what should I even write about?!
I'm a perfectionist, so I'm always searching for the "perfect thing" to write about. About two days into the course I finally realized that this perfect idea does not exist. So, for my first poem ever, I picked the thing that spoke most to me. Something that I had always found fascinating:
Ink skims crisp white paper
Intertwining intricate lines
Life seeped into each word
Castles erected from crumpled parchment
Fairy wings glimmering with blue ink
Dawns smudged with grey lead
The snap of a pencil
The echo of a falling tree
A puddle of ink
A droplet of crimsom blood
The tearing of a page
The ripping of a broken heart
Swords clash as ideas collide
Candlelight falters against evil
Voices whisper from the shadows
Let our stories be heard
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