Poetry is the universe.
We think we know so much of it,
Yet we have only scratched the surface.
It is constant,
Always expanding with our knowledge of it.
And writing poetry is relief.
A release from the talons of restrictions.
A calming, warming presence
In a blizzard of stress.
Writing poetry is the face of a smiling sun.
Effervescent, yet unachievable,
Only brought to life
Through our graphite-tipped companions.
Concepts only given essence
By our creative rivers,
Which never falter in their flow.
Writing poetry is embers.
The spark of an iridescent wildfire.
The beginning of something beautiful.
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