Where's my pen?
Prolific poet pen
Mind exploding
Needs unloading
Again again again
There and then is how
For if not
Will be forgot
They live in the now
Cares not what the hour
3am
I need that pen
By morning will turn sour
Like conceiving new
Embryo made
Idea laid
Pen made sure it grew.
Paper not a must
Back of hand
Will do grand
On my skin I trust.
poem by Stevie Taite
Added by Poetry Lover
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