up and down of stains

Its like my pen has a flow it needs to curve to,

no stopping its path, it's rude to stop what it has lived upto.

Up and down, who knew my hand could keep up

with these swivels my fingers have released, don't stop.

Up and down

up and down

up and around,

see the way my finger tips could change the world without a sound.

My lips don't hold back the roar,

my hands shouldn't either.

Another's eyes could see the heart I left behind

a few thousand years from now and no longer have a bind.

Thats what happened with Shell SilverStein,

years past and yet she is my accomplise, my fiend.

We could be connected, this person from another life

someone I never met, never will, flowing through a different strife.

But to be a friend through words, ink staining paper

is the greated magic one could leave, the greatest power.

Up and down

up and down

up and around

a word left for the world might change a child, mother, father's ideas changed........how profound.

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