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My name is Reed Starwin. I write poetry sometimes. I'm going to share some. This one is out of a poetry journal that I have. It's called Never Too Far From Poetry, and it goes a little something My heart is no longer in poetry, if someone's told me. She said that the flow for prose had the glow when she was writhing, but that she slain her last dragon at the cost of her rhyming. And what perfect timing. She was now arriving at the phase often bathed in a haze, most akin to a maze. Many are amazed at how cold one can feel standing below the sun's rays after the weather breaks a season of cloudy days. So where do you go from here? I mean, where do you go from fear? When you're made of hate, but it dissipates. What do you do when what you thought was you disappears and it disappears and then it's clear. A true self, a new self takes image in different mirrors. What kind of person did you want to be when you were younger? And what words surge from your mind through your nerves and still make you wonder? Why was someone And which morals do you value above all the rest? What in this life do you never hope dies? And what lights up your mind sky And as they said in, you'll keep the progression of your outward expression. The moral of this lesson, I hope at least is that if you make your heart of work of art, it's never too far from poetry. Woo! Come with the bar. It's a fire. Again, look, if you're in quarantine right now, it's a great way to pause, reflect and write about your experiences in life and share for other people.
