
I write my own fate
every word, stanza
and syllable starting
with a clean slate.
To write from a blank
mind
onto a page as
equally of the same
kind.
An empty page or
words forming on
a random stage
with no left exits
I've yet to flow
or give myself a
direction to go.
I close my eyes
and drift, thinking
of words that'll
inspire and lift
your desires,
the hopes,
new lines,
old tropes,
recite or sing
it's up to you
whatever the
inspiration brings.
Life is waiting
for you to jump
to catch the train
to swallow that lump
in your throat,
in your way,
grab the ring
while going around
the carousel
it's not too late
come what may,
to dream,
to soar,
to imagine,
all the wonderful
things that happen
when fate
intervenes.
_______________
Thank you for reading! - Sam
About the Creator
ᔕᗩᗰ ᕼᗩᖇTY
Sam Harty is a poet of raw truth and quiet rebellion. Author of Lost Love Volumes I & II and The Lost Little Series, her work confronts heartbreak, trauma, and survival with fierce honesty and lyrical depth. Where to find me
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Comments (2)
such a beautiful truth
The word soar is so beautiful. 🤩 Great job. You’re on a roll!