Let the ink caress the paper,
my pen it's carrier,
the holder it's divine reason
For the pen swerves as my heart beats
it stops for my erratic moods
and finally begins to unleash what's within
Bring about the emotions,
love and hatred, laughter and sadness
mix it in an balance that makes a poet divine
With each written piece,
takes apart of what's hidden in me
despite I write to fulfill and satisfy...
I come to see that I have no muse,
lying unfufilled, yet happy
to only write what I see in you and me.







10 old applause
