Last night I sat up
and thought things though
I took a pencil
and a pad from it too
There were scribbles
of petty lines and bush
I stoke the end;
not too soft, neither too cruel
Never satisfied
of the plain streaks of coals,
I picked up a brush
and painted from my soul
Haven't crossed my mind,
from dull, I created something more
'cause from the start,
change is what I aim for
-2:10pm change
YOU ARE READING
untitled
Poetry"i have nothing to write i am not even free not until i find the sugar for my coffee"
