I miss writing poetry
But the weather demands for art
To find beauty in every fallen tree
And color in a broken heart
I miss writing poetry
But the words they elude me
They found what it means to be truly free
And choose to be or not to be
I miss writing poetry
But my inspiration's not what it used to be
Been a couple of months since my latest entry
Into my poetic potpourri
I miss writing poetry
But the palette's got a hold on me
And if pictures paint words, a thousand and three
I'll just pick up a brush and let the words draw me
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 12:07 AM UTC
I miss writing poetry
But the weather demands for art
To find beauty in every fallen tree
And color in a broken heart
I miss writing poetry
But the words they elude me
They found what it means to be truly free
And choose to be or not to be
I miss writing poetry
But my inspiration's not what it used to be
Been a couple of months since my latest entry
Into my poetic potpourri
I miss writing poetry
But the palette's got a hold on me
And if pictures paint words, a thousand and three
I'll just pick up a brush and let the words draw me
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