It was just a poem you said,
neglecting my feelings, although you knew very well.
So, in case you forget,
let me remind you, how I composed my poems, that’s all I can tell.

……….

Have you ever felt lonely, with no one to understand?
Have you ever felt neglected, when your tears can’t shed?
Have you ever felt restricted, as if your words are banned?
Have you ever felt pressed, which drives you to gone mad?

……….

When I feel lonely, I make friends with pens,
they introduce me with papers, who are really good friends.
Thin, thick, light, heavy, colored, plain, many many pens,
which stay by my side and never leave, when I’m lack of friends.

……….

They speak to me and sing to me,
when I’m lonely and sad.
They produce a beautiful harmony,
and compliment each other, which is a real fad.

……….

Sometimes, there is no shoulder for me,
and I have to seal my tears.
But I can transform into words, that can see,
with the help of my two friends, who are dear.

……….

Some words can’t be speak out,
when many rules, tied my tongue.
But I can change and write about,
in the form of letters, with thoughts of young.

……….

Sometimes, my thoughts gone wild and can’t control.
for the pain in my heart is unbearable.
My faith is lost and no one foretold,
blood from my heart is dripping and it’s terrible.

……….

I use pain as a paper to write,
my blood from heart as a ink that holds,
leaving memories on clouds of thoughts which are white,
sharing my feelings that no one knows.

……….

Poems are my life, my comfort, my soul,
which represent me, in many ways,
build me up and make me whole.
They’re unique and nothing for them you can pay.

……….

It was never just a poem,
I wish you could know,
from all the things I’ve told.