So I pick my quill yet again
For I couldn’t resist this sweet urge
All these beautiful thoughts floating in my head
Who would not want to trap them down?
But something ain’t right today
As if bringing a fish from Sea to Desert
These thoughts seem to be choking on paper
I tried to paint them the more, yet these thoughts keep bleeding colors
Perhaps they’d rather be somewhere less open,
Less open to light, readers and critics
Somewhere they could be nasty and wild yet safe
I think they just wanna be thoughts and never words.
To every poets that are not writers😌
