Are these few simple lines really mine?
How can these twists and turns of words really come from my mind?

They just appear like apparitions.
They possess me like a premonition.

They flow out of me in strings of slurs that I can’t help but admire.
I could never tire of even the simplest of rhymes.
Even they, send me up to cloud nine.

In each one filled with the sweetest of moments.
Everyone, carving out a unique emotion.

I used to joke with my friends about how I couldn’t write one to save my life.
Now they read about my worries, my struggles and all my strife.