As I sit, these colors flow.
When inspired, my head will grow.
With thoughts zealous to erase.
Writing is my embrace.
You say my words show nothing.
Ignored and useless till the end.
But these truthful gleams are enlightening.
If your tiny brain can understand.
My life is stuck on this screen,
With this spacebar in between.
A dab of tears, a hint of pain.
A light of hope, one spark ignites the flame.
Blistering like a hurricane,
My voice haunts me night and day.
Until my world turns to grey.
Letters are my only ray.
Words rumbling, stampeding my eyes.
Soaring waves my body cries.
Breath whisped now out of lies.
My spirit now surely flies.
Sore as a thumb.
Blank as a canvas.
These blistering words.
Never seem to vanish.
This is how I feel sometimes when I write. Maybe others can understand the gravitational pull a writer has when inspired. :)
YOU ARE READING
Drifting Poetry
Poetry*****E-AWARDS WINNER [Third Place in Poetry]***** A selection of poems created when inspiration was plentiful.... This book is now completed! Started: 2015 Ended:2019
