I red a lot when I were young
Books and poems wrote by authors
People I dreamed of becoming
There words made me feel knew
They replenished my mind
And cleansed my sole
I writ until my hand did blister
And then I writ some more
I tried to find the secret, but
Wear it was I never discovered
In a book I red at school
One man writ that grammar,
That old muse, was key.
Yet, after all that I have read
and seen, and felt,
I say that love cannot be tamed,
By grammar, or anything else,
For when you love something,
Truly,
You give your time, your life to it,
You never stop,
And then one day
You start to get it right,
And suddenly,
Your dream of writing an epic poem
For generations to come to admire,
To create a world of wonder,
To make that girl proud
Of the person she has become,
It be well.
