Words to a young poet

Write.
Though you may question,
Hear my words.
Know that in you,
There is a song,
Words that are beautiful,
Powerful,
Truth.
They and you,
Have a right to be heard.
So write.
Frustration and the need for praise,
May halt your pen,
And stop your words.
Though your poem may not come,
Just write.
Write.
Each day choose to feed your art,
Not because you can,
But because you must.
Choosing to hone your craft,
Tie words like daisy chains,
Drape them across the page,
And worry not,
If the lines just fall apart,
Just write.
Write.
Write of your joys, your woes.
Write of what feeds you,
Hurts you, makes you cry.
Write all those words,
Which you keep locked inside.
Dare them to dance,
Across white paper,
They are your truth,
They may not rhyme,
But they are yours,
And they deserve to live.
But write.
Write.
Write of the tears you shed,
In silent rooms.
Write of the laughter,
Write of the fear,
That haunts your night.
But write,
These are your truths.
Write as if none,
Will read a thing you wrote.
Write not to pander,
To the common taste.
Too many write to sate,
The childish need,
For popularity,
Spewing forth milky,
Baby thoughts.
Not you.
You write,
Write for the ages,
Leave your voice behind.
Write so that children,
Years from now might find,
The record of your love,
Your joy, .
Your life,
Learn from the past,
And listening hear your voice.
But write.
Just write.
Write.

kells_95r_E_fish

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