My poem is yet unwritten
The one that best describes me
My pen has become idle
The words don't come easily.
I write about people's wants
Their hopes, desires, and love
Angels, nature, and the seasons
And also the Good Lord up above.
It comes together for someone else
My heart dictates what to write
My pen never seems to run out of ink
They fill my soul with so much light.
it comes to writing about me
My pen seems to run out of ink
I have trouble collecting my thoughts
I find it difficult to even think.
Strangers think my poetry pertains to me
But believe me, that's not true
It's so difficult to write anything about "me"
But it's so easy to write about YOU!
Chee Chee Martin © 2006
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