Sign up now for a
Free Email Account &
your own Online
Writing Portfolio!
Username:
Password:  
Sponsored Links

Click Here To Bid  

Read a Newbie
Badges
Inner Beauty
Presented To:
HuntersMoon - Gone..

Testimonials
Tell a Friend
Know someone who'd
like this page?

Email Address:

Optional Comment:

Who's Online?
Members: 531    
Guests: 1646    

   
Total Online Now: 2177    
Writing.Com Time

Monday
February 13, 2012
8:51pm EST


  >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Personal >> ID #1591985  |   Show DetailsPrinter Friendly Page Tell A Friend
The Pawn
Just something I wrote about writing itself.
Rated:
E
by
Avg Rating: (12)
I sit down softly in my wooden chair,
off into the blank nothingness, I begin to stare.
In my dripping wet fingers, I hold my little book,
do I keep it closed or take a chance and look.

I decide to open it to an empty page,
now the whole world is my stage.
I give over control to my creative mind,
to my surprise there are endless words for me to find.

Some words are big and some are very small,
on the paper the ink from my pen begins to crawl.
Line by line it forever flows,
where it is headed nobody truly knows.

The ink knows what to do,
most of the time it bleeds blue.
I just let it do what it will,
sooner or later the page does fill.

I let the ink drip out like bullets from a gun,
the next thing you know, the writing is done.
I slowly put my book back on the shelf once more,
to my imagination, I again slam the door.

Of my own mind, I am simply just a pawn,
I am forever awaiting the oncoming dawn.









© Copyright 2009 boxingpoet (UN: poetrycastle at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
boxingpoet has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log In To Leave Feedback
Username:
Password:
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!

All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!