From Ink to Light

In a corner where the walls whispered secrets of disdain,

Sat a girl, withdrawn and young, whose life was edged with pain.

Books her fortress, words her sword, in this enchanted keep,

She'd often delve into their depths when others were asleep.

*

Escape she sought from a fractured home and touch that harmed, not healed,

In stories grand and epic verse, her inner world revealed.

A sensitive, young soul she was, diving deep within,

Unraveling the truths of life, the interplay of sin.

*

Her first penned lines were not of love or daisies in the sun,

But existential ponderings, a battle just begun.

She wrote of voids, and nameless fears, and questions without end,

Of life's absurdities and what it meant to be a friend.

*

Each word was like a balm applied to wounds too deep to see,

An offering to shadow selves that yearned for empathy.

That first work was her primal scream, let loose upon the page,

A missive from a younger self, confined within a cage.

*

Years flew by; the girl matured, her craft did likewise grow,

Through Salinger, Hesse, and Rumi's words, her inner world would show.

Her themes expanded, skill refined, her voice now like a river,

A vessel for both her own pain and a way for solace to be delivered.

*

She tackled mental health and grief, dived deep into the fray,

A warrior with a poet’s heart, dispelling shadows gray.

Her verses now are read by those who bear a similar yoke,

Whose lives felt bound in quiet despair, with spirits nearly broke.

*

Yet, often in her quiet hours, she goes back to that start,

When every line she wrote was like a whisper from her heart.

She never scorns her former self or the words from her youth's night,

For each syllable was a step towards the realm of healing light.

*

So through her evolution, that first work takes its place,

Not as an archaic form but an essential base.

It serves as her foundation, a testament to will,

A message that both she and others could find healing still.

*

Each poem she now writes is a beacon in the dark,

But it's that first imperfect piece that first lit the spark.

From existential questions to the varied words today,

It was her humble starting point that helped show her the way.