The sounds of
Our typewriter hearts
Fall
With
The
Leaves
Of
Change
As we fabricate our masks
In a masquerade of words,
Soaring
Dancing
Tumbling
Through time
With a voice that's much more
Than rhyme.
They say
We hide behind pen and ink
But the truth is
The words
Are all we truly seek.
YOU ARE READING
Ink Stained Soul
PoetryAnecdotes and snapshots of life, sometimes mine sometimes based off of other people, events, songs, books, etc. I hope you enjoy it, but more than that, I hope you can connect with something bigger than all of us. After all, isn't that the point of...
