From Pictures in Younger Years
And Writing accompanied by Gray Stained Tears
Black Chipped Nails grip a pen in my Hand
My eyes begin to see a foreign place
A world
More beautiful than this.
The ink turns across the page.
My Life; A Canvas.
My blood, My reason to live;
The Ink.
Words flow, echoing
Off my lips that dry like
The black on the page.
I can see them come together.
A dance of Letters and Lines
The music in my ears;
It serenades my imagination
My Heart fills and overflows
There is no sense of the world around me.
The ink is my reality.
The music is my heartbeat.
Everything coincides
And I am
Alive.