Dramatic but still so ecstatic.
The story of one’s mind,
Written in a poetic way.
Every morning,
A word so new.
Ever evening,
A note with a catchy tune.
A word to make up,
For the thousands to say.
But it has to be written,
In a rhythmic way.
Shaking hands that scribble each word,
While on his mind it still burns.
phrases erased and replaced,
By something new.
His thoughts without emotion or feeling,
Will never do.
He tries and retries,
Sometimes even late into the night.
Till at last he comes with,
The poem that is just right.
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