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The very first poem

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Landed on a chair,

Paper in front of me.

Thinking what not to spare,

And give out a glee. 

 

My mind is confused,

Amid of all the thoughts.

For what can be produced,

And what cannot?

 

My hand flows faster

As I write this line

Not minding which is brighter 

Enough if it's mine.

 

The very first poem 

I say with pride.

And I don't care if it's glum,

As the only thing I care is it's mine

                                          and only mine.






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kissthemoonThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Jun. 9 at 3:42 pm
I love this poem! I especially like the last few lines, it's expressed so well! Keep on writing!
 
DiscreetWriter replied...
today at 6:07 am
thanks,vip.:D that means alot,you know right.:p
 
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