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I have these complicated feelings
they unfurl in my chest
begging to be let out
I release them from the ribcage
with a pen and paper
my poems are their escape
it makes me feel lighter
like happiness can fill me
instead of the dark curling tendrils
of despair
I just bought
A new notebook today
Have so many things
I want to say

Filled the last one
In like a week
Writing is the
Way I speak

Express emotions
With pen and paper
Spoken words
Will turn to vapor

All my thoughts
Fill your pages
It's a story
For the ages

When I see
Your empty page
All my feelings
Start to rage

Maybe I'll write
A poem or two
Close your cover
When I'm through

Inside your cover
Does flow my pen
Silently waiting by my bed
Till I need you again
Marcus Belcher Jan 2016
As the ink stains the page
On this day
I pray that I don't stray
Away to another way
Truth in each and every step I take
Realities I create
Spread love
Watch me demonstrate
A poem out of my poetry notebook
Irate Watcher Aug 2014
Too lazy to decipher scrawl,
she took to typing.
But graphite gratified,
thunderbolts struck her empty.
Nostalgic for
the soothing scratch of pencil
as a child cloistered,
shuffled between states,
who translated her life
to pass the days.
Writing then vs. writing now.

— The End —