"A Written Soul"
A Written Soul
The pinnacle of my pencil flow…
Or penmanship…rolls through every ventricle
Forming kindred spirits and kinships in a simplistic mold
A light shines that’s shone but is it an intrinsic glow?
Or something that I’ve built upon just to make it show?
My tune exposed used to be mental though…
Until I decided to write it as something physical
My drum beat is heartfelt but my instruments don’t blow…
Unless you count the pen I hold after it explodes…
And brings out what I’ve hidden inside for far too long…
…I’ve been told I’ve got a writer’s soul…
So when I dream again, I’m anxious to meet with him…
Stowing away on his journeys, grateful he could sneak me in
Then I speak again about his leaping pen, he leaves it then…
For me…so I can go back and give you a chance to speak with him…
So when I say I’m soul searching, I just mean I seek a friend…
And when I’m puzzled about a piece again…I ask how he’d transcend
He says, “It’s easy to make amends with the scroll than to scrape and bend…
But the masses may appreciate more your efforts in taking them…
To the far reaches of the cerebellum and places they’ve never been…”
So I pledge to him we are never “fin”
until it’s just…
The end.
