My Stories
Alarms sound and I snap awake
my head fills with ideas ready to make
their way into words on a page
they flow freely out of their cage
oh, the worlds I see
distant lands that could never be
waiting to make the journey
from thoughts to a tale to a story
An idea in sight
I start to write
Of ancient fights
and long dark nights
and kids with kites
and wise old knights
that see the plights
of a boy at night
who longs to take flight
away from a fight
with an evil might
that sets its sights
on a world in strife
Of men with hoods
and stolen goods
in an ancient woods
defended by a being
that won't be seen
until it rains
and all that remains
of the thieves is their screams and the pieces of the recesses that ceases to be.
Of each idea I'm proud
Even if they're not accepted by the crowd
They can hate them, they're allowed
but I can't hear them from the cloud
on which I write, on which I stand
I don't care if they don't understand
I said it before: I'm proud
Am I talking too loud?
I can't get the ideas out fast enough
I can never craft enough
Worlds or stories or tales or times
Legends or fables or scenes or rhymes
They rush out in a torrent of rage
All fighting their own fight to reach the page
Some see the light of day
Others only ever see the grave
How do I choose which make it? yup!
You guessed it! I make it up!
These ideas are mine and mine alone
and for that, I shall never atone
For in this world of endless uncertainty
My stories are the one thing you can never take from me
#Poetry #Writing #Excitement #StreamOfConsciousness
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