My Beginnings

we all start somewhere, right?

Ask me how I learned to read,

Ask me how I learned to walk,

Ask me how I learned to love,

My answer to all:

One small step.

The smallest step ever I took

Was off a certain cliff.

It was barely a shuffle

But that’s all I needed.

That first movement was called Annabel Lee,

Written by the master of macabre artistry.

I was flying off that cliff,

By the third line.

With chills up my spine

And excitement in my mind,

There wasn’t anything I could do

To stop the fall I knew was coming.

From there, it was

Shakespeare,

Plath,

Tennyson,

And Thoreau.

As I dropped further away from the ledge,

I couldn’t understand how I’d ever want to go back.

All of the raw feeling and passion,

Poetry has more to offer than a thousand biographies.

It has more description than a novel could dream of,

contained into neat little lines and stanzas.

I have yet to stop my fall,

I think I never will.

Reviews

[DiaryKay]

Even time and chance doth make every day an opportunity to begin!! a simple yet striking poem Elizabeth... Love it..

[Paul Bell]

Hope the fall continues for a long long time.
Words are the gateway to life.

[jude.elizabeth]

I certainly expect it to continue until I breathe my last. Thank you.
There is much truth in that statement. Words are glorious indeed.