They say poetry is dead,
but I believe it's the people who are dying—
not because they do not care,
but because they no longer have the time
nor the freedom to read.
See, people are not machines,
but living, breathing creatures.
Yet now they only act to live,
while most of them do not live at all.
They are trapped inside a concrete utopia.
And so I write—
not for money, nor for fame,
but to enjoy this borrowed time,
doing exactly what I love,
exploring every genre I can.
Writing is the part of me that dares
to speak, to fall in love, to break,
to burn, to be reborn,
to search for happiness—
all while staying true to myself.
And in that grand cascade of words,
poetry becomes the way to save them,
to give them their life back.
For there, I found my purpose.
There, I found my smile.