I am born of few words,
Weak as ants in defense;
Poetry built my senses,
Now, my writing roars.
Just like the wave of the ocean,
My thoughts are penned;
Unraveling the mystery within,
Rolling up and being understood.
Developing my own thoughts,
Aesthetic is all I use;
My crawling defense as thoughts,
See as poetry in use.
A Brooding
Christianah Eneze
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 01/27/2022
Poet's note: This poem was written January 2022 to all poets across the world. The feeling of joy towards poetry and it's effect. This poem shows how poetry has helped in building sense of worth.
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Poem topics: ocean, weak, mystery, poetry, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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