just one more poem
it's a frantic rush
peripheral vision blacks out
pin point visions of tunnels
voices meld together and become music
the keyboard
or pen
or pencil
are instruments of conduction
that seem to match your heart beat
Just one more poem
you feel it bubbling within
it will die if it doesn't escape
so you write and write and write until
you get it out
crying in the new world
and you love it
until you realize
that there is still one more poem
trapped somewhere deep within you
so you try to save it
you have to save them all
because one day
there won't be time for
just one more poem