Holidays

So, it's been a while since I've made a post, and it'll be a little longer due to the holiday and subsequently busy weekend, so I leave you with three of my latest works. The first is an explanation of how I feel the concept of poetry works, while the second and third pieces are a commentary on life and death, as well as telling the story of someone I once knew while respecting their anonymity. Enjoy.

"Poetry"
Poetry isn't made, it isn't forced, and it isn't controlled.
Poetry is born.
Born from emotion, born from life, born from commotion, born from strife.
Poetry is power. Raw, untamed, invulnerable.
Poetry is life.
Poetry is death.
Poetry is joy.
Poetry is pain.
Poetry is in the words that we speak, or the songs that we sing.
Poetry can be found in the air that we breathe, or in the shining of the sea.
Poetry is in you.
Poetry is in me.

"Life"
Life, an endless mystery,
yet filled with utter misery.
We live, laugh, love, and cry,
until it is our time to die.
Life is trials and tribulation,
be it in ourselves, or those of relation.
We live, laugh, love, and sigh,
until our time has come, you and I.

"Death"
A mother stares on at a box as she begins to cry.
Why, oh why, did her son have to die?
She remembers his childhood, filled with days at the park,
but the entire world has suddenly become dark.
She remembers his smiles,
and helping him through his trials.
Now all she sees is his death,
brought on by his final escape from Meth.

"Shade"