When I was young
I learned of my inky blood
My paper bones, and graphite mind

When I was young
I wrote to please my family
Who loved words even if they were mine

When I aged
And the world grew strange
I wrote for me to understand that time

When I aged
And those words were for me
I was scared to share those precious things

Now I am old
And am starting to share
The words that have been trapped inside

Now I am old
And still young at heart
Wondering if others will appreciate my art