I Lost My Poetry

I lost my poetry

In the midst of the rat race and the noise

of constant despair

In the midst of the pain and the feeling

of not being able to express

Not via poetry, perhaps prose

Of thinking it is not enough, as in good

Yet I miss what I lost

As do many each day

For poetry is mine to feel, sometimes

to heal

Yet not for months has that feeling healed

And so I seek that which I ought

For license to write is not anyone’s to be

Fought or bought

And hence I shall strive to believe in my

ability, poetry that is

And find it in the recess of a mind that is

grappling to heal, as in feel.

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