MY POETRY, MY PASSION
My paper is an easle
My brush is my pen,
I create poems in rhythm,
A mozart within.
My mind's a blank convas
Then roars like the sea,
Words flow as if magic
And spill out through me.
Sometime they go smoothly
Still waters I've seen,
Sometimes I can't keep up
Like scenes in a dream.
Free verse, haiku, limerick
Not just one certain kind,
Fill my thoughts like a painting
Rapidly filling my mind.
Each night I must write them down
To limit what I think,
If I did not, I'd paint all night
And wouldn't sleep a wink.
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