My way

I cried a lot, but faced the pain like a warrior.
I did not run the sadness, I lived! And I learned the value with the pain of being happy.
I did not hold in my heart the bad water of remembrance.
I washed my suffering. Matured and was able to laugh at the feelings of agony.
Woman when I was just a girl!
I wound bled with the stripes on my body!
I was mute, blind, dead, without breath to escape the scorn and violence.
But I could be a child when I discovered the value of poetry.
And she became my best friend.
It was quiet and not understood by the literate look of power.
And I grew strong with her, told the secrets, I registered the pain
any paper to my board was sacred.
And she turned the label of the medicine of my salvation.
Today ...
The more I try to join the letters, but gather the pieces of my emotion.
And so my way I'm leaving every word turn on my magic carpet, the accents me up, signs and awaken me every syllable format gives me the right measure of the division of love.
It fell to the formation of the sentence to be the biggest challenge in my life forever. With no rhyme or rhyme I tread slowly in the construction of meaning that words can share, however, the pages of my life, only I can fill out and turn.
My chain opens when the freedom to express my memory whisper into the mouth of writing my story.