Original Writing

The Thoughts of A Free Verse Poet

With a pen in my hand,
Resting on a blank piece of paper,
And a blank screen staring in front of me,
I don’t think I could be happier,
Than when I’m alone,
With a chaotic sandstorm
Of poems yet to be written
And feelings
Yet to be diagnosed
With words.
The potential for magic
Rests in the air
And it is magnificently compelling.

Advertisements
Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s