I Must

April 12, 2016

Time passes, but moments slow

Peak of the day or late at night.

I refuse to let my trusty pen go.

I can’t help but to write and write.

My mom’s voice asks for a hand,

My strewn laudry's a ghastly sight,

Friends text to make weekend plans,

And yet, I write and write.

Poems and stories will flow,

My pen gripping my mind tight,

Inking thoughts I may not show.

I must, I need to write.

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