I am born when hearts get heavy,
When all the thoughts collide.
I can shape to your desires,
Or dive inside your deep-sea mind.
I can be housed within your paper,
I could be fed by flowing ink,
And once the last line is completed,
Seared in the veins of your sheet.
I’ll hop my way outside the lines,
And carve my way into your heart,
I’ll watch the view of your life
Through the lenses of my art.
I am born like human beings,
Though I don’t die the same way.
I stay etched into the paths
Of those who let the ink remain.
-
Author:
~c.y (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 28th, 2026 06:59
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 11
Offline)
Comments2
"But none say, Where is God my maker, who gives songs in the night;"
I love that comparison. That verse fits the feeling of the poem so well.
The personification of pen and paper and ink. Well written
I appreciate it
You are most welcome Cindy
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