PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

In the Realm of Paper and Ink


I’m a poet…and I’ve always known it I’m a writer…but my syntax could be tighter A broader diction for my fiction So I read I read til my eyes are too tired to see All the words into my head, I appropriate Til it’s so full, I can’t concentrate I awe and marvel about the striking scenes These authors create in their novels Heavy and tangible and musky in my hands Taking me on a journey, on a high so great I never want to land With every page I’m turning They sate my curious yearning They take me to a place where I only have to sit back and take, here In this land not my own, I am always welcomed with open arms My home, never a bother A place where I find respite in genres Of romance, humor, adventure, mystery and horror And when that temporary peace, that magic, is over I pick up another, then another Then another It’s like kissing a lover You can never get enough Ever So I’m always looking with fever For more of these gateways that sever The ties between me and my reality Where I’m just a girl Living in a world dieing With people so desperately trying To save it Just a girl moving towards an end unknown Growing up in a world with people fighting to keep their jobs Their homes It’s neither set nor certain Yes The future is there, wild and dangerous Especially for those less fortunate Than the fortunate In the realm of paper and ink I’m not just a girl moving towards the brink Of oblivion I’m the girl who passes through time Saving human and faerie The girl who makes victory mine And overcomes the sick games of human quarry I’m the girl who has seen angels fall And had fallen for one of those angels I’m the boy who wanted to grow into a man, strong and tall But will probably be killed And, to some paraplegic, be forced to donate my ankles This is what I immerse myself in To get away from the everyday Do you get what I’m trying to say? In this place you’re in control Of being able to flip to and fro between young and old To relive the past 5 minutes, 5 hours, 5 years repeatedly Or just skip to the end just 'cause you can, 'cause you want to see Prolong the pleasure or be satisfied immediately Choose life or death Good or evil Right or left Choose between this one or the other But no matter what Disguised in the droves of black and white Is vivid color
©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

ArtisticRelevance

View all poems →

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (2)

Grant-Grey Porter Hawk Guda
<p>Powerful expression!&nbsp;</p>
jwiener
I love this poem! You write about why poets write- because we are inspired by what we read, and we want to make records of the world around us. The language and rhyming you use it great too, and flows nicely throughout the poem. Check out "poetry writing tips" in the "resources" section for tips and inspiration for writing more, wonderful poems!

Log in to leave a comment.