A Poetic Reflection: Journal Of My Life

If I were to write out my story in a poem what lyrics would pour forth. Would my words be beautiful? Would my mind sing silence? Or would it bleed with the depth and ferocity, like the soul of a Langston Hughes poem.

I am so many things

Intangible elements of miscellaneous glory

Only tangible to me

Pieces of sunshine

That got captured in a snapshot of beauty

Memories of things that once were

And that never were

My soul runs like the river

My essence echoes with time

I am poetry

Played to the tune of my heart’s most glorious memory

Unfinished

I still ache

I remember him

I remember them

Is friendship more than an idealist dream?

And as I daydream of my own reality

Like Shakespeare

I ask out loud

If you cut me

Will I not bleed?

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