Pen or Pencil,
to little one stroke,
twice was the wave i could not drown had no boat,
then came a day,
all of sudden seemed as night,
pondering my reflection as the water shined so bright,
afloat will i stay? Still breathing so hear me say, afar i see far,
but insight a long way,
piece of paper in my pocket,
not all the way wet,
should i write down this memory with other tears i won't forget?
a voice came from within,
so subtle as though the wind,
a laugh i had gave,
from thoughts of rescue what a grin,
as i looked up to see someone,
my reflection appeared again,
before the question i was to ask,
this was said in advance:

"The rescue you seek
is you saving yourself,
day after day night after night,
Month by the year,
will you float looking for help,
only to find you,
still floating searching for help,
apart of you,
yes I am,
this reflection can be your truth,
from a child i guided you here,
now you hear me,
here is your proof,
you here with those pointy ears,
what was lost must be revealed to you,
pen or the pencil, paper or the papyrus,
this was your choice,
to use when alone and silent,
your gift was not crafted,
so no manifestation led you here,
If your gift was crafted,
afloat you wouldn't be here,
you asked if you should write a memory,
with unforgettable tears,
vision was a bit blurry,
but your sight is now much clearer,
so the question to ask is,
am i floating or dreaming fears?"

After speaking with my reflection,
or should i say my protection,
my direction was pre effected,
from a course of pre neglection,
with this pen or this pencil,
on this paper in my pocket,
my craft will be crafted,
like a witch in a ghost town,
with this pen or this pencil,
on this paper in my pocket,
my craft will be crafted,
now that i am Finally Found.