Some days I'll wither to very thin pieces
Other days I'll ask myself why I have these thoughts?
Does this make me a small person?
My body seems to relax at the idea of happiness
My mind races for my answer
But simply can't find it
Writing brings forth a voice
Which I didn't know I had
A voice that speaks within
Speaks from my very soul
I seem to have lost it a while back
Just now am starting to find it
It's almost breathtaking the emotion and stories of my poems
They're all me
And no one can take that away.