Doodling.
My fingers know no one is watching.
Yelling through the tip of my pen,
Scattering like the mind of its master,
Dreaming like an acid trip,
Opening the long-locked doors of imagination,
Whispering on the silent paper,
Waiting for a masterpiece to occur.
Doodling.
My fingers know no one is watching.
Yelling through the tip of my pen,
Scattering like the mind of its master,
Dreaming like an acid trip,
Opening the long-locked doors of imagination,
Whispering on the silent paper,
Waiting for a masterpiece to occur.
Doodling.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
Join the Discussion
This article has 3 comments. Post your own!