I seek refuge in word, in hope of healing or finding maybe both
I am not part of the pack nor have I been taught
As much as I wish to call myself a writer I can never be sure
What is this but the writings of an ignorant 22 year old
Life has not been easy on me as much as I have been to myself
When i stumbled upon poetry and pretext
The unspoken words came out of the nest
My pen became my knife and defence
No one can take my words from me
For there is art in lying and confess
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