Late at night,
When my mind has no light.
A pencil calls out to me with all it's might.
Sometimes I put up a fight,
I tell myself that I have reached to too many heights to find this passion.
Nothing has the right to take away this fire burning in my chest as I take the steps to my future, smiling wide.
November 28th, 2017
YOU ARE READING
Random Writings from My Journal
PoetryI have a journal that I carry with me EVERYWHERE. This book contains random pieces I decide to share.
