Time To Write
Standing still.
The wind is clam.
I take a breath,
enjoying the moment.
A beautiful day,
That is what this is.
A perfect time,
to write.
A pencil in hand,
The words flow,
onto this parchment,
As the wind starts to blow.
Now it is a storm.
My words, they howl.
A story emerges,
from the debts of my heart.
I cry as the pain,
runs through the lead,
bleeding like the tears,
of my soul.
A song this is,
with a perfect melody.
Words are the notes,
of this emotional song.
With every line,
my heart tears,
open even more,
to let out its words.
When all has concluded,
I stand still,
take in a breath,
and enjoy the moment.
The wind is clam.
I take a breath,
enjoying the moment.
A beautiful day,
That is what this is.
A perfect time,
to write.
A pencil in hand,
The words flow,
onto this parchment,
As the wind starts to blow.
Now it is a storm.
My words, they howl.
A story emerges,
from the debts of my heart.
I cry as the pain,
runs through the lead,
bleeding like the tears,
of my soul.
A song this is,
with a perfect melody.
Words are the notes,
of this emotional song.
With every line,
my heart tears,
open even more,
to let out its words.
When all has concluded,
I stand still,
take in a breath,
and enjoy the moment.
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