It\'s dark except the light from my phone.
The constant whirring of the fan, leaves a nulling tone.
It\'s breath irritates my ear,
but it drowns out the dark and the fear.
It\'s time to write, to allow the creative juices flow.
Where can I start, how shall I begin, let me explain, allow me to show.
I\'m not professional or clever, but I do have imagination and a big gob!
I was always told oh leave that silly stuff and get a real job!
It was always looked upon as being rather daft, a waste of time.
But I love the never knowing, the make believe, and mostly because it\'s all mine.
From inside this head, my world opens up to a place of whatever...
It\'s a place of joy, of colour, it\'s anything I want, going too or from wherever.
Words are simply letters joined together, but then they speak!
They grow, they live, they breath, I\'m my own critique.
I don\'t use thee and thou, I don\'t have long words and intelligence,
but what I have is thrilling, exciting, a joy and a persistence.
An attitude, a carefree, careless walk into my own dream,
I will make a story from a story, I will create like the Tailor sews his seam.
I can and I have and I will, always be in love with the language of make believe.
What the mind can do will amaze you, it has no boundaries to what It can achieve.
My eyes are heavy and the fan has become an annoying vacuum.
I turn it off and silence suddenly engulfs the room.
Time to rest my brain and take some very needed sleep.
My thoughts and plans will have to keep.
This is the beauty of being your own composer,
There is no end, no stop, there is never any closure..