Poetry Addict

I need pen to write my inner thoughts
Articulate the struggle my people fought,
The motive that brought my distraught,
I persist to be overwrought,
I need paper to leak on,
Pen to breath on,
And words to keep on--expressing,
Repressing my freedom while recessing violence,
Distressing warlords with equal social defense,
So we can give happiness a chance,
I feed people the truth through poetry,
And poetry feeds me the clear glossary,
The distinction to what’s close to me,
Close to be free, from insanity,
We can make change, as we look back in our history,
Spot the things we miss to see, that left us in mystery,
I shall not plea guilty, but set my people free from misery,
Stand up for liberty, and trade vanity for empathy for my country,
…I continue to demand, to live under the white man,
…thinking it’s a clear stand, standing under his right hand,
Not noting his invisible command, that continues to expand,
Yes we can,
Indeed we can have peace, whenever we please,
Breathe and inhale while you feel the breeze,
Be grateful when you seize the moments of ease,
Understand the keys of life to a certain degrees,
My mental stage intends to freeze when-I’m without my pen,
I’m addicted to poetry, which kills me once again.