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Ink and Paper

A new pen,
Pressed upon fresh paper,
Gives endless possibilities.
The ink,
Could be the story of your life,
Or the story of what you want it to be.
Your hand guides the pen
Across college-ruled lines,
Forming letters, that form words,
That form stories.
But when nobody wants to read,
And your story is not told,
It’s bursting inside of you.
And ink and paper,
Suddenly isn’t good enough.
All you want to do is,
Scream.





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Trevor said...
Jul. 9, 2009 at 2:54 pm
Brilliant!!! You write very well. I also write poetry. Keep it up
 
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