|
|
|
||||||||
Windows To My Soul
I think of my poetry
As windows to my soul;
I always kept them locked away,
Safe in my hidey-hole.
I never let anyone see them
For fear of exposing myself;
I wrote about my feelings;
Releasing it somehow helped.
I remember how hard it was,
Being an adolescent;
A man, stuck in a boy's body;
Knowing, yet, innocent;
Awkward times, to say the least;
I thought they'd never end.
It's a shame not to talk more openly
Among your peers and friends.
Society didn't allow that,
Like pubescence was a bad word;
So I tried to balance health class
With all the stories that I heard.
The conclusions made more confusion:
Was love-making taking or giving?
Why was it wrong, if it felt so good?
and Why else would I be living?
It seems it would have been better
To learn of it beforehand;
Dreading, yet warned, of puberty;
Knowing I'd come to understand.
I was lucky to have poetry
To soften the raging within;
I pondered how sex could be beautiful
And still be considered a sin.
I reread them many times
In puberty's aftermath;
Even now, I enjoy them;
Because they really make me laugh.
If you browsed in from GeoCities, just close this window to return.
 Previous Previous 5 Sites Skip Previous Random Site |
 A Production Of Spyder's Poetry Empire This Site Is Owned By:MadPoetnExile Apply For Ring Membership |
 Next Next 5 Sites Skip Next List Sites |