For the hundredth time I’ve picked up my pen
And sat down to write a poem  
Can't believe I'll do it - yet again

Feel so humble, so grateful today
That I took up writing - never knew
I had so much to say

Did not know what I would write about  
But I didn’t have to fret
As it turned out

Could not tell iamb from dactyl
Knew neither rhyme nor meter
I just wrote freestyle

Thought those were handcuffs
That would arrest my soul
I cast them like slough

And decided to set my verse free
Of all that could shackle it
And see if it helped me

The words just gushed out of me
In torrents of emotion
That became a lake, a river, a sea

Some great writer once said:
“I write because I don’t know what I think 
Until I read what I say”

That line rings so true to me
As I sit here and reflect 
On my own poetry

2 thoughts on “Cien

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