Poetry - it sets me free from the realms of my own mind
Never know what pen will show 'til it taints the hungered paper
Words devour my inward thoughts, spilled out for all to see
Verse or prose, it matters not, the stanzas set me free
My drug of choice, poetry, is my vice; I revel in its bliss
Poetry's passion elicits, in me, my every licentious wish
The eloquence of vocabulary is music to my ears
Words resonate; I see my fate unwind in clear calligraphy
Its decadence, without pretence, pieces back my fragmented heart
Through scribing out the pain of years; from despair, enables me to part
Without my muse and all its cues, I think I'd still be lost
So pen in hand and thoughts in ear, I scribble at all cost
© Debbie Razey 2014
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