A Torrid Love Affair

  
I started to practice the art of writing
When I’d stutter and the words got stuck in my throat  
And though sometimes my spirit went down fighting  
My will would not let me get choked  
   
I had a lot of love to express  
Composing poems and prose proved promising and exciting  
And when I chose to confess my emotions to impress  
I found out I lacked the finesse to be inciting  
   
So, I practiced and practiced  
I studied, read, spilled and rehearsed  
Trying to do my damnedest  
With each and every verse from my best to my worst  
   
And poetry became a torrid love affair  
Through both dreams and nightmares  
When life and I sparred I got punched hard in the gut  
Then I’d take to paper and pen  
Vented everything from my despair to Zen  
Even when I thought I had it made then fate kicked me in the nuts  
   
And that’s what I love about poetry  
It’s made me laugh, it’s made me cry  
It’s been my literary chronicle, both serious and comical  
A reflection  
Letting me figure out what's going on inside  
   
Then when demons were about to get woke  
With a stroke of a pen I’d stoke an ire fire and flame  
I’d slay them with reason and rhyme  
Every line that I wrote    
Every time that I rote  
I smote    
And smoked those fools back from whence they came  
   
Writing is a passion  
It’s everything I can dream and imagine  
An endless vault filled with creativity and innovation  
It’s like a personal canon  
An eternal attraction  
The explanation that brings some balance to this equation