Those White White Walls

June 24, 2013

In a desk a bit tight,

With bright white walls,

Years ago when life was simpler and I was still cute,

A mind full of wonder in a room full of knowledge,

A preacher with a book of poetry instead of the Bible,

Out comes the words, so sacred to me now, of Robert Frost,

I'm enthralled by their beauty,

By their absolute glory,

Inspired I use my own chewed pencil as a paint brush,

My words are the colors,

The structure is the frame,

I write to let those words out of my mind,

To make my vision a reality for someone else,

And even to travel from those white walls to another world,

I write to write; because I can't draw or paint,

But that's okay- I'm better with words anyway.

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