I red a lot when I were young

Books and poems wrote by authors

People I dreamed of becoming

There words made me feel knew

They replenished my mind

And cleansed my sole

I writ until my hand did blister

And then I writ some more

I tried to find the secret, but

Wear it was I never discovered

In a book I red at school

One man writ that grammar,

That old muse, was key.

Yet, after all that I have read

and seen, and felt,

I say that love cannot be tamed,

By grammar, or anything else,

For when you love something,

Truly,

You give your time, your life to it,

You never stop,

And then one day

You start to get it right,

And suddenly,

Your dream of writing an epic poem

For generations to come to admire,

To create a world of wonder,

To make that girl proud

Of the person she has become,

It be well.

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