Scraps of poetry in my pocket
My mind taking off like a rocket
Inspiration strikes like lightening
Thinking so fast, it’s frightening
My pencil cannot move fast enough
Maintaining the flow is tough
When the words flow
I know
My hair stands on end
I comprehend
I realize
I initialize
I put into action
My every reaction
I filter raw emotion
Put it into motion
Swirling on the page
Hopes dreams anger and rage
All flowing from the pencil tip
I try and get a grip
But the river runs dry
But more rain will fall from the sky
Eventually, I shall become Poseidon