Never knowing what the pen is showing until I read and then I find
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
Dispelling encroaching darkness, poetry saves me from my fears
Its eloquence of vocabulary is music to my ears
Words resonate; I see my fate unwind in clear calligraphy
Poetry, my heart's pure voice, paints its raw emotive imagery
Its decadence, without pretence, pieces back my fragmented heart
Through scribing out the pain of years; despair I'm enabled to depart
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 2015
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