When She Writes

I wipe the tears from my eyes, and steady my pen, I let the writing steady my mind, and let my soul's speech begin, and this is why I truly write, the scars on my arms, the pain in my eyes, Let my heart tell you much, Take a peek into my life, A girl looked over, needed a way, A way to cover, what wasn't seen durring the day, The smiles she smiled, not quite the truth, But when she writes, that's living proof, Oldest but youngest, Her heart on her sleeve, One can't see, what to her life means,. She puts it in verse, a stanza at most, to feel her emotion, her life in prose, As a child she was old, and she wants to get back, by the scratch of the record, and the lightning's crack, So she wrote in book, covered by her idol's charm, McCartney and Lennon guided her from harm, and when the pen glided, over that velvet leaf, she felt her troubles leave her, from pain to release, and then her own, writing shown, gave her living relief.