the mind possess the tempo
of each poem that will grow
the poet hums silently as
the inks of harmony flow

silence within its aging pages
in an attic of hurt and true pain
it sits all alone just an old notebook

silent for too long
trying to make sense of things
hoping to unleash the
unspoken thoughts
pouring words onto paper

Shhhhh !! ....I need silence....
I'm  asking the lines
please allow ink
from my pen to purge
my emotions into its spaces