Poetry Lives Here

Poetry Lives Here

Poetry lives inside the quiet places,

Between the tears we never let escape,

Hidden within forgotten faces,

Carved deeply where old memories ache.

It rises through hearts heavy with sorrow,

Turning pain into words that still breathe,

Giving broken souls strength for tomorrow,

Pulling truth from the grief underneath.

Poetry is the voice of the lonely,

A language for wounds too deep to explain,

Holding fragile emotions softly,

While dancing through heartache and pain.

It captures the beauty inside disaster,

The trembling ache love leaves behind,

Slowing every racing moment faster,

Untangling the chaos inside the mind.

Some poems arrive like storms in the darkness,

Others drift gently like whispers at dawn,

Each line carrying pieces of tenderness,

Even after hope feels withered and gone.

Poetry remembers what people forget,

Every scar hidden under a smile,

Every regret soaked deeply with sweat,

Every silent battle endured all the while.

The pen becomes more than simple ink,

It bleeds emotion onto every page,

Giving hearts a safe place to think,

Releasing feelings buried in rage.

Poetry never asks anyone to be perfect,

It only asks the soul to be real,

Because words born from truth leave an impact,

Touching wounds only honesty can heal.

#Marie381UkWriter