I have a deep seated need
For powerful alliteration
That moves mountains more than me
A love affair with the dash
That is commonly overlooked
For its extended continuation of the pause
By its crooked brother the comma.
I have a voice that
Speaks via Roman letters
Ascribed by a pen
I am a writer
And such is my calling
Nouns, verbs, adjectives
My tools to create the world
As seen through my own eyes.
A pen, a pen and not a sword
But rather a tool to illustrate
And unburden my soul
As the quiet seconds slip by.
They are my family, my tears
The words that fill the page
A reflection of my heard
And though they be but rambling
Sentences and syllables
Strung together on some form
They are my own - my solace, my peace
And forevermore they stay
The ink upon the page -
My etchings upon the subconscious of the world.
