The Process

The sound of the pencil,

speaking to the paper,

the words spilling out,

leaving it’s existence in view.


The thoughts are there,

and there they are,

the things I dream of,

the things that can go far.



as much as the person

dreaming of the words

can express onto the paper.

To fully complete

these longed for worlds,

to show their darkness,

and to show their light.


I could allow my mind

to take flight,

soaring though

the pages I write.


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