Sometimes the girl sat down to write
A kind and touching poem,
But trying though with all her might
Her mind would start to roam.
She often read a worthy line
And envied all the words,
But when she tried to make a rhyme
She thought her work absurd.
And then one day she met a man
Who reached into her heart
His love and hers helped move her hand
And now her work is art.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
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