My pen is always showcasing my feelings,
A tool to express what my heart conceals.
It writes of love, joy, and pain,
A reflection of what I've felt and gained.
With every stroke, a story unfolds,
Of happiness, sorrow, and all that's untold.
It weaves a tapestry of my life,
A masterpiece without any strife.
My pen is a friend that never leaves,
A constant companion in all my griefs.
It gives me strength and comfort too,
A means to heal my heart anew.
So I hold it tightly in my hand,
A symbol of all I've ever planned.
With ink and paper, I create,
My feelings, my hopes, and my fate.
For my pen is not just an object,
But a reflection of my soul, I'd suspect.
It's a part of who I am today,
A testament to what I want to say.
About the Creator
Nova
As an article writer and poet, I am excited to share my knowledge and creativity with the world. I bring accuracy and attention to detail to my writing, thoroughly researching topics for my articles and pouring my emotions into my poems.
Violence Begets
"Any last words, cowboy?" "None you'd understand, sodbuster." "Funny. That's Marshall Sodbuster to you. But I meant some last nugget that would help us in the adjudication of the myriad offenses counted against you and your gang. I wasn't asking for penitence."
By Adam Diehl7 days ago in Fiction
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