This journey has not reached its end,
Thoughts spread, like ink across the page,
In this poem which I have penned.
This story which another lent.
This tale is now ripened with age,
This journey has not reached its end.
On another’s words this does depend,
Ideas trapped, like birds in a cage,
In this poem which I have penned.
Those words, across the page, they did send,
This story has become my stage,
This journey has not reached its end.
For my own use, those words I bend,
At last, set free, my mind does rage,
In this poem which I have penned.
Broken words and phrases I did mend,
This pattern stamped upon the page,
This journey has now reached its end,
In this poem which I have penned.
No comments:
Post a Comment