The insomniac in him
Begged his pen,
To keep him company
While his demons debilitated him.
🎨
The recluse in him
Called upon his pen
To be his loyal confidant
When trustworthy friends are rare...
And Loneliness is all he has.
🎨
The midnight artist
Saw nothing wrong
In his behaviour.
He thought it to be normal...
A common trait
Of people with his gift.
🎨
She told him
To sleep earlier.
She gave him
More feelings to depict
In his art.
She changed him
With a kiss...
And a yes.
YOU ARE READING
Writer's Whispers
PoetryIt's only at night that you hear the faint whispers of the writer's pen trailing paper. [COMPLETED]
