My pen fell in love with the character of my imagination - part one
A pen and paper forth me
i am to commence with this poem
But my pen is against it ...
i feel agitated
As the words are in my mind
i see them , i visualize them
But my pen rebels against them
i've neglected it for momths
So is it emnity , distrust or a broken friendship
we're suffering from?
i held my pen with intentions of making or breaking
This life of my imaginative character
Yet my pen rebels against it
Why the sudden change of heart?
Has my pen allowed itself to be devoured by love?
Was it embraced by the true nature of this character?
Because what anger it has as i commence with the first line
What hatred it holds for these abominable words
I have chosen for this poem
I remember how it used to dance smoothly
On the surface of this pure paper
It was like mutualism - our relationship
it was as if we had the same destiny
Something wrong with this poem?
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