Pages and images of imaginations,give me peace.
Thoughts and words never break me into pieces.
The nib of the pen is connected to every inch of my soul.
I crumble and mumble,through pages and prahses.
I scatter and gather my thoughts into Poems.
I cry and shy when I write something that is close to my soul.
I tear,I get up,I give up,I mix up,When it’s so hard to convey,A story I freak up.
I wonder the encounter I had with my dark part,
I’m struck and enlightened by the magic when I write something from my heart.
It’s creative to the world,And close to my soul,
It’s beautiful for the world,But my life in words to me,
My brain is on a break,when my heart connects with a page.
PS- Don’t you all writers feel the same way?