writing

Story of My Life

My life is like a notebook filled with empty pages
Bitter words and blank statements
I stare at the pages and try to picture
What should go in these spaces

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Notepad 2

I know its been a while since the last time
We spoke or since I’ve written
Hope you don’t mistake my procrastination
As me being distant
Because honestly, I enjoy the feeling
Of my pen on this paper

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Feelings

I can’t cry
So when it rains, I run outside
Look up to the sky, let the
Rain drops flow into my eyes
“Like I’m really crying!”

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Free Minds

As my thoughts escape and illustrate stanzas through the
ink of my pen…
I can feel the chains being removed which held them within…
No longer am I confined by ignorance …
I am now intellectually vigilant, vividly envisioning all that’s depicted …
No matter how encrypted or scripted …
Gifted!

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A Key

This is not a poem
It’s not a sonnet
It’s not a written piece of verse

It’s not a prose inscription
Arranged poetically
It’s not an essay of few words

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