Some People Say I Have a Gift: Devyn Pleasants

unpublished poem by a youth from Larkin Street Youth Services
*typos and capitalization are [sic]

Some people say I have a gift
that makes them sit down in front of me
To listen intently to my poetry
In order to know the whole of me
the chance to look at me critically
Or to find a rhyming soliloquy
Will not come like this
But, however, they persist

In time they find
My soul to exist
As thoughts and ideas
I put on a list

Then hide away in a secret place
Away from even God's grace
I take it out when no one's around
And use it to write my feelings down

Sometimes it's gone, at times too scared
To let me keep exposing the mind's affairs

But if I stop writing it yells at me
It gets angry with me and tells me to leave
And then I'm left with an undone piece
No chance to finally release

Never asking why it screamed at me
Do I write of its insecurities?
That's probably why it's mean to me
For revealing every impurity

But alas with efforts
I've finished my poem
And what has it shown
Has it shown that unkown

Deep, dark hidden space
Hid from even God's grace
Hid forever, hidden from time
Hid where the stars try not to shine

Hidden even as the planets shift
In my heart
Is this poetic gift