Not a poem

This is not a poem,
there are no similies or methaphors to find,
just a kid that writes.

This is not a poem,
love will not be put on trial here,
the things of the past will not be written,
or even thought of being here although its so dear.

This isnt a call for help,
its just writting for the mind,
its that simple feeling one has,
to explain to the world how he is,
knowing he has every right.

This is not about sadness,
its about being able to let go,
but let go of things that have been forgotten,
for that is how we are as humans.

This is not a means of escape,
it is merely a means of expression,
to spread the message across the masses,
of how much i need to write.

This is not a poem,
its only the soul speaking through paper.

This is not a letter,
but a simple junction of ideas coming together,
to be able to cope with a problem at hand,
and let your mind forget of how harsh this reality can land.

This is not a rant to anyone,
just a simple outlook on the things that are.

This is not a memory,
at least not yet.

This is a moment,
a thought,
a simple analogy,
the art of word,
the expulsion of reason,
the subconcsious of a mere season,
the first of many,
the final of the rest,
the departing words of a loner,
the beginning notes of a thinker.

This is not a poem.