By Tokumei and Narutoisawesome.
My Pencil, my paper. Together they create something no one else has created, something no one else has thought of. something only I have imagined.
Pencil to paper, I write the words, they are mine to take credit for. Mine to love. Mine to hate.
When my hand clasps the pencil and the pencil engraves the paper, words like the ocean pool from my mind upon the sea of the paper.
Etching an echo of what lies in my heart. Sparking like wildfire, a dance in the night. I’m free to create anything I can imagine, the world of this poem is mine to take.
I hold the pencil so the power is mine to wield. I shape the paper molding it into something new. Your opinion is a mere image, my heart is the judge.
I write for my convenience thoughts to feed my mind to take, to hold, and to create. A wave of inspiration overcoming me. Drowning me in a world of imagination. I write to get lost.
For words I can get lost in. An escape from this world. Words break the chains that link me to the world I so desperately want no part of.
This world breaks me down, but my words then strongly build me back up again, this time, in a new world. My own world. The one that I created.