He said Gather around, everyone These will be the last words make it raw, make it heavy Make it something to remember. Gather here.... where my ink still bleeds beyond the pen where my paper never folds and my words never get old. Gather here, I have been writing like it's my duty for survival or every line I write could save a life or maybe just remind them that it is always a reason to still breathe. There is nothing weak about poetry It's like the whispers of thirds person in your ear. We gather here because we refuse to Stop allowing our thoughts to be read. Turning poetry into prayer, we gather here while the words play like music, And our fingers move with rhythm. If these are my last words, allow them to rise by the moon. crack the circulation of heavy allow my Words to be loud and steady. Rise like gun smoke, it is always hot But ready. Gather here, and remember We all write to express to inhale, exhale To breathe again, to awaken To find inner peace To show love To evolve Deflect Relive stress Reflect Don't forget to manifest Delleesa D Harris 6/14/26