I work alongside others who write.
It is with them that I feel the most like myself.
This community of creatives help my inspiration take flight.
With my fellow writers, I feel as if I’m not so far from the highest shelf.
The ink glides along a blank sheet.
Our papers become stained with fascinations, worries, love, and pain.
Through stories and stanzas, our imaginations and the world are able to meet.
If not for written word, too deep within our souls our true selves would remain.
Our eyes become exhausted from criticizing every line.
There are cramps in our hands from the countless pencils we hold.
The process is pressing, but we know all will be fine.
We would not trade this pain for its weight in gold.
On a day of any kind, into our hands a pen finds its way and begins to create.
Overwhelming euphoria results in anecdotes to showcase the joy that radiates from our hearts.
Tears transform into poetic words of sorrow that help us cope with our current states.
From our minds the words effortlessly flow, making it difficult to stop, yet not to start.
A words’ true meaning can be lost if left floating in the air.
When expressed onto paper, genuine intentions and spells of creativity refuse to fade away.
Each word that we write comes from raw emotion, but is produced with care.
Our written word is everlasting, forever it will stay.
The inner workings of our minds beg to be set free.
With passion and fresh paper, my fellow creatives and I will be.