My Introduction to Poetry

As a kid, I was an introvert. I always seemed to seek refuge in my head and often kept things to myself. Speaking my mind was something that I struggled with. Amidst talkers, I felt insecure, and when probed by interrogations, the awkward silence was the only thing that I had to offer. My lips and words did not synchronize, and time was always beyond reach. With this peculiarity in hand, an expression was what I yearned for.

As part of an assignment, I was asked to write a poem describing myself. This was something I had never done before. Uncertain about what I wanted to jot down, I began scratching my brain, trying to find the perfect response. As I moved back and forth in time, I could feel my hands drift away with the friction of the pen on the blank piece of paper. But... I suddenly felt a transition. The melodious recollection of memories rushed through my mind like a fine stream flowing through. With no sense of time - I tuned in to this exuberant exercise. 

At the tip's junction, ink spilled freely and formed letters, words, and finally, stanzas. The collection of different stories finally began to fit comfortably into metaphors, smilies, and the figurative spirit. Gradually, the words started to emit a fragrance that touched my heart. 

As I glimpsed at my poetry, I realized that I was a musk deer ignorant of my own scent. The words I crafted felt true to me. I had found my voice, I had found a way to confront my emotions, and with that, I eventually found myself. I discovered the synchronicity of my search for expression and my true companion: the mighty pen. For me, my pen became my translator and my poetry a translation.