My Story – How I became a poet.

The first time I penned my feelings down,
Was when I started expressing my grief
Over those hard times of 2015-2016,
When my father was bed ridden;
Attacked by a rare neuro disorder.
We did all we could do,
And our only hope was to pray for him.
The journey of my pen started.
But little did I knew;
It would take the shape of poetry one fine day!
I strted composing poems, one after the other.
I was so raw a writer then.
My pen wasn’t sure what to write and how to.
I failed innumerable times…
Still the pen kept on bleeding,
Because I had so much to feel and write.
I wasn’t aware of the truth about myself,
That ‘poetry’ is my most intense passion,
And the only thing I would ever live for!
I was then, ignorant of the fact, that I need to write.
From Heaven to Earth,
Every person is descended with a purpose.
And my purpose is to write!
I write that I feel, see and experience.
The words are nothing but a pure representation
Of the real life happenings.
‘November 13, 2015’ is remarkable for me;
A date, a day, a month and a year,
Of my first published poetry, titled ‘Humanity’.
Ever since that start, I have been writing,
Sans a pause or a quit.
And my pen will stop to bleed,
The day when,
My breath will stop to breathe…
*** I never knew poetry would be my most intense passion ever. It is the sole thing, I live for! And, most surprisingly, the very first time I started penning my emotions down was the time when my father was daignosed with a rare neuro disorder called ‘Myasthenia Gravis’ in the year 2015.
*** I just expressed that I felt and didn’t think the least about what my sentences looked like, whether it was grammatically correct or not or if all that I was writing really made any sense or not. It was a tough time for my family and it’s my pen that eventually relieved me of my depressed state. I really am thankful to Almighty for blessing me with such a beautiful gift. I lost my father in the year 2016 but I am so proud to be his daughter.
*** No matter what, I feel, my father’s blessings for me have met me in the times when he was in his sick bed. I pray for his soul to be in eternal peace in the company of the good souls and comforted in God’s bosom.
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