TheDerangedPoetryWriterReciter

The Ghost Writer 

As I pick up my pen to begin to write these images 
In my imagination I wrote this as if it was spoken 
I’m hoping to learn something 
let the words say something 
That I can share for you to listen 
Is it paranoia or premonition? 
My instincts or intuition? 
Now I’m leaving it all on paper 
With rhythmic melodies and elegant Eliquis 
I’m doing it all for the passion
Everything written in second hand 
whether it's on purpose or happenstance 
The words of my Ghost and its writer is all that stands