Poetry Prompt 6 – Free Verse





What I think about when I think about writing

Is a minuscule bit of chaos

Of predictions and assumptions

Entwining in bursts of emotion.


Writing a poem feels like possession

As if the words that come off the roll of my tongue

Belong to me, and are in my control

For that split-second, until someone else uses them

To create symbols out of the mere act of existing.

Words come to me like the water hits the rocks

(Occasionally in swift fervour)

Slowly, but steadily, rounding them

And moulding them to change them just enough

So that the ebbing tide doesn’t damage them in anguish.


Rereading a poem feels like home

As if the words escape paper and draw feelings in my mind

And knowing the endings gives me the comfort

That prophecies aren’t always all that mystic.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s