Dear reader who is going through hard times,
Being in the moment helps assess what lessons there are,
Experience is the cruelest teacher but it helps one along,
Pause.

One such moment that hits home for me,
My first year of college being only 17 or 18,
Standing on a stage alone without instrumental experience,
My slam poetry piece turned out to be the pits.

I had some decent rhymes,
Fluidity here and there,
But also tried smashing in all the syllables,
Until the message was deflated of all air.

Later found out,
It didn’t resonate with the crowd,
So separated from their ears,
Last place led me to make a self-focused vow.

The following school year I didn’t slam poetic words,
Had thought of giving up,
But that left me upset, perturbed.
Little did I know I’d be more invested than I was,

This writer since 8 years old
Became its planner without any kind of grudge.
Hired to plan the slam for the next four years,
I kept advising and guiding others into their writing gears.
Auditions in front of a small group of people,
Feedback for those who asked,
Making it understood inexperienced poetry
Shouldn’t lead to one’s soul being slammed.

Biggest event in the land,
At least while I crafted it my way,
That position reminded me to never give up,
And I keep writing to this day.