A poem we all need to read

If I were to write a book,

Where would I begin?

With so many words and stories,

When the pages are so thin?

I could write out my life story,

And where it all began,

I could write about the time,

I feared for my life and ran.

I could write about my dreams,

My achievements and my truth,

Or I could write about my demons,

My trauma and abuse.

What would it do for me,

If I were to write it all out?

Would it give me more peace and freedom?

Or would it fill my mind with doubt?

I've encountered so many souls,

The old, the wise, the carefree,

The hunters, gatherers and farmers,

The damaged, the spontaneous, those who foresee.

I've stumbled across so many lessons,

And some are quite bizarre,

But I can't wait to learn them all!

Or would that be taking it too far?

So you see, if I were to write a book, 

Then it may never end.

My pen would fly through each page, each corner,

Following life's path round each and every bend.

So instead I wrote a poem,

And I know that will have to do,

Because every word has a powerhouse of meaning,

And that's my way, of showing me to you.

By Joanna Yates 05/2023