Mar 2011
We're losing the art of writing,
The sensuality of written words on a page,
Too many people are just typing,
Never feeling the words true pain.
The intensity of a letter,
As it flows from a pen,
The ink splotches that mold together,
To tell the story we hold within.
The signature that shows them,
Exactly who we are,
From pen to paper,
From heart to heart.
The sensuality of written words on a page,
Too many people are just typing,
Never feeling the words true pain.
The intensity of a letter,
As it flows from a pen,
The ink splotches that mold together,
To tell the story we hold within.
The signature that shows them,
Exactly who we are,
From pen to paper,
From heart to heart.
I realize this seems ironic being as it's been typed and posted to HP, but I write all my poems by hand in a notebook... so, that taken into account... it's sincere? I don't know, take it to mean what you will I suppose ;)
