
Part of my poetry collection, Margins of the First Draft — a reflection on the creative battle between vulnerability, raw emotion, and the desire to hit harder through poetry.
19. Acceptance
But mother,
Can you not see
He makes my heart sing
My fingers dancing on the keys of an old
Dusty
Pianoforte,
Out of tune
And I keep hitting the wrong notes
But my heart hums
And perhaps, I am
A Jester of love
But love
I do
Poetry on the Margins #19 I do
To love is courageous, and to admit it even more so.
To feel —
there's something humanly imperfect, and yet
beautiful, in it.
And to think that we don't choose
who we love —
love just
comes to us —
is one of the most profound spectacles
of being alive.
And we can love again,
and again,
and again,
and again —
and yet,
never the same.

Links to more of my work:
If you like reading stories: Six-Sentence Stories, Short Stories, Romance and All That, Dead Poet
Or poetry : On the margins of the First Draft
and more reflections than poetry: On the Margins of the Second Draft
My band "Chaos in Spring" can be listened to on YouTube, Spotify and other streaming services.

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