I used to think that poetry was utterly the worst… every word I uttered dried my mouth a little more. Who cares about this line and that silly little verse? The sentences drone on in a continuous bore. But then I heard bold words emoting echoed truth – music strums drumming resonating voices. Storytellers upset n’ soothe – the ears of common voiceless feelings jumping pumping electric virility. We’re nodal ideas sending emotion, repeating rhymes so easily.
Now that I’m older, I’m wiser too — spreading living inceptions. Whether so trivial as “violets are blue”, or peace from spoken connections.