I dedicate this poem
To the people who were responsible,
Who were conciliatory and consoling
To the people who told me what to do,
Who were contradicting and controlling.
To the lessons which were given to me
To the lessons which were not
To the persons who told me I could
And to the persons who said I could not
To the stories that were read to me
Before I went to bed
To the stories that I listened to,
Which strangers sometimes said.
To the nicknames bestowed upon me
Catchy, heartwarming and harmful
To the rhymes I learned back then
Silly, sly and carnal.
To the people who were kind to me
To the individuals who were mean
To all the things that were snapped at me
which made the world not what it seemed
To the sky that I walk beneath
To the rock that I call ground
To the dreams of the night and day
where all these things are found
Infinite possibilities-A writer's guild
This is a writer's guild where all can gather for feedback and advice on all mediums of writing. Plus it's a great place for conversation.
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