• I meticulously type and type
    Word after word,
    Line after line I ramble
    This is my way to speak,
    To express myself,
    This is the sanctuary I dwell in.
    My poems mirror my heart and my soul.
    Busily I tap and tap,
    The typing slows,
    The words don't flow,
    My train of thought comes to a halt,
    This is the creation of my weary mind.