I Write Poetry

It starts with just a thread,
Sewing together broken parts,
Hiding in the dark spaces,
Of each one of our hearts,
From there it becomes a string,
Holding together the ties that bond,
Where we long for something more,
Of a life that lay beyond,
Next it becomes a ribbon,
Always there to remind,
Of the passions that swell within you,
Within your dreams entwined,
The cycle so continues,
As it then becomes ropes,
The ugly truth soon seen,
We're prisoners of our hopes,
Swayed by tides of "what if",
A slave to the ebb and flow,
Forming tightly into chains,
Refusing to let go,
Then they become bars,
Encasing you in a prison,
Aspirations screaming loudly,
That logic will no longer listen,
Bound to attempts and failure,
Risking it all and facing disaster,
For when you find something to love,
Your heart becomes your new master.