Sometimes I don’t understand the poems I write

But I do them down without any fright

A poem is a story from the brain

That can be happy, or agonizing pain

No one can stop my wandering heart

From writing down words, that combine into art

Art that is descriptive, without the stroke

Of a paint, but of a heartbroke

Writing is something that I love

A gift from someone that is above

That I want to share with the world

Man and woman, boy and girl

I can send messages, at the people at home

Or for the dreamers, who go around to roam

But remember, no matter what I claim

I hope you accept, without any blame

I really love writing, the happiness it brings

All of the words that combine to sing

A song of a writer, who is telling the story

Of a war, or the future, or of a glory