deepundergroundpoetry.com
Writers Rising
Onward you go,
Onward it is,
Like two dancers in my mind.
Like smoke on the trine.
The twisting and twirling play on words.
Or do they play me?
The laughing little birds.
Pencils, and pens, and fast little clicks.
The way of the magic.
The writers bag of tricks.
Onward it is,
Like two dancers in my mind.
Like smoke on the trine.
The twisting and twirling play on words.
Or do they play me?
The laughing little birds.
Pencils, and pens, and fast little clicks.
The way of the magic.
The writers bag of tricks.
Published 19th Apr 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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The author encourages honest critique.
19th Apr 2013 10:59pm
Getting so lost in the words that you can't tell if they're meant to be taken at face value or if it's all in your head, I love it
