I started with a few words that made a rhyme.
It described how i felt so with that all I needed was time.
I could never speak my own story.
My past was dark not spoken in glory.
So a poem had dig out the monster hiding In the dark.
Every poem I made from life even its only one remark.
I had to go threw many types of abuse.
With every poem healing, my ticking bomb might deffuse.
But yet I was no angel, I was no victim. This is my own doing.
And one day what I have done wrong will be seen as a viewing.